Dilated Eyes
by tearox09
Summary: This wasn't supposed to happen. Things like this don't happen to the average, everyday person. When 20-year-old Scarlett becomes shipwrecked on an unknown island and kidnapped by its hostile inhabitants, she will be forced to witness and endure things she never could've imagined in her worst nightmares. Will she hold onto her morals or will the island break her? Warnings inside.
1. Prologue

****A/N:**** ** **Hi guys. Long time reader, first time writer. I've been writing this story for a while now and wasn't even sure I wanted to ever post it, but I think of the people like me who want to read something a little different and are foaming at the mouth for another prospective of the Tomb Raider 2013 Reboot story. So, I'm taking a leap of faith here. I wanted to shine the spotlight on the scavengers of Yamatai, the Solarii, a bit more than the game did because I don't think they were given enough depth. If they were given more dialogue, it could have added a whole new level of horror to the island. So, I'm here to help the poor guys out! But this story will be centered around a female OC and will start before the actual game, but eventually catch up to it. I just wanted to experiment with the island and its inhabitants for a bit first. And a special shoutout to The Hobbit Diet for beta-ing this for me. You have helped me so tremendously! Thank you!****

 ** **Disclaimer:**** ** **I do not own anything Tomb Raider. That is all Crystal Dynamics. I only own my OCs.****

 ** **Warning:**** ** **This is an M rated story. It contains blood, gore, adult language, intense violence, and rape. I wanted to make a story as realistic as possible. Read at your own risk.****

* * *

Scarlett Glockner took in the sight of the grand ship, the RSV _Commendation_ , through her aviator sunglasses, duffel strung over her torso, tote bag in-hand, and a small rolling suitcase behind her. The vessel had to be at least four to five stories tall, like a giant waiting for her to climb into its hand and take her away. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the ramp. This was it. This was where she was going to spend her summer. She was slightly anxious because she had never been on a boat—sorry, ship— for that long, but it also felt exciting. She had never been on a research trip before. The memories she would make while being on this vessel were sure to last a lifetime. Once on board, she dropped her tote, abandoned her luggage, and ran across the deck to the edge, gazing at the distant ocean. The water was so blue that the Crayola Company couldn't make a crayon this shade. And it went on for as far as her eyes could see.

"Scarlett, honey, can you help me?" She turned to see her father struggling to haul the rest of her luggage up the ramp.

"Oh, sorry," Scarlett rushed to help him. She slung one bag over her shoulder and took the handle of the rolling suitcase. Once they got everything on deck, she smiled cheekily, folded her hands together in a cutesy way, and said, "Thank you, daddy. And thanks for bringing me."

"You know your mom would take forever to tell you bye, heck, you'd probably never leave. And your sister…well, let's just say she'll be eating popcorn in your bed every night 'til you come back."

Scarlett rolled her eyes. Her little sister, Heidi, always abandoned her TV-less bedroom with a twin bed to enjoy Scarlett's queen-sized bed and TV whenever Scarlett was away for a semester of school. Scarlett had always thought of her sister as a spoiled brat because she was the baby of the family, who got anything and everything she ever wanted and received little punishment. Scarlett believed it was because her parents were getting older. They were older, so they were more tired and let Heidi get away with more. But all in all, she was a good kid. She never did anything serious, like run away or set the house on fire. Thinking about her mother, Scarlett frowned slightly. She always went quiet when Scarlett talked about this trip. Her parents paid for it, but Scarlett figured it was reluctantly.

"Does Mom hate me for wanting to do this?"

Her father's eyes diverted to the side. "She's just…worried."

"She doesn't think I can do it," Scarlett bowed her head.

"It's not you, it's everything else. She's just thinking of everything that could go wrong: the ship sinks, you get hurt, y'all get lost…And we won't be there to help you if something does happen."

"I know, but I want to do this. I think it'll be good in the long run. I want some experience out on the actual water instead of just learning everything from a textbook, y'know?"

"I know, but two months is a long time at sea." He had his hands in his pockets as he looked at the water. "Just be sure to use common sense, please. Oh, and take good care of this. I hope y'all don't have to use it, but you never know," he handed a gun case to her with a rifle inside it. Scarlett took it and slung it over her other shoulder.

"Don't worry," she grinned. "I'll take good care of it."

Her father stared at her, reminiscing. She used to be this little girl who wore pigtails in her hair and used to pretend that she was Ariel from _The Little Mermaid_. When she was a toddler, she would play with her toys that were marine animals in the bathtub, with the big, bad, mean shark always ramming into the poor innocent little fish and then she would giggle and make the shark swim round and round in the tub until the heroic dolphins would show up to save the day.

"What?" Scarlett knitted her eyebrows together, unsettled by the fact that her father was staring at her. "Did I forget something?"

"No, it's nothing," he shook his head, laughing. "It's just…you're really growing up and…I'm proud of you." A big smile crept onto Scarlett's face and she hugged him. "I love you, darling. Be careful."

"Love you too, dad."

"And I love you, sir," another person joined the hug. Scarlett recognized that voice. It was her best friend, Zoey. Everyone let go and Scarlett's dad looked at the two girls.

"Don't go looking for trouble, now. Always stick together."

"We will, Mr. Hector, sir!" Zoey saluted him, while Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"He's not in the military, Zoey."

"Yeah, not anymore," she hissed behind her hand.

"I mean it," Hector warned, snapping them back into attention. "Always do what the instructor says and don't do anything that you're not supposed to. Don't get out of that cage, even for that perfect shot. I don't want to get a call two weeks from now saying that a shark tore you in half."

"I know, dad," Scarlett replied, slightly annoyed.

"We won't always be looking for sharks, Mr. Hector," Zoey reassured. "We'll stop on a few islands and check out the local wildlife. We'll take lots of pictures for you. Maybe we'll even catch a tuna and bring it home for dinner when we get back. And your wife can make her heavenly mac and cheese to go with it," she smiled dreamily and rubbed her hands together. That put a smile on all of their faces.

A man approached them, wearing jeans, a fishing shirt, brown boots, a baseball cap, and a pair of sunglasses. He was in his late forties with graying hair.

"Hi, Mr. Hector. I'm Channing and I'm head of this research expedition." The two men shook hands.

"Yes, I think I met you at one of the seminars. You said you have about twenty years of diving experience?"

"Yes, sir. Been diving ever since I was in high school," Channing smiled.

"What's the worst thing that's happened to you while you were in the water?"

"Dad! Please!" Scarlett complained.

Channing chuckled. "It's rare that anything serious happens. I mean, you have more chance of getting struck by lightning or dying from a bee sting than being attacked by a shark. The first time I went spearfishing with my dad in the Bahamas, he had a shark that grabbed his diving fin. But once it realized that it was biting into plastic, it immediately let go. And I once had a lemon shark mistake my hand for a piece of food. But I was wearing a chainmail suit and I only felt some pressure on it. Don't worry, Mr. Hector. Encounters like those are extremely rare, but we're well prepared for any type of emergency. We have first aid kits, antidotes, and a medic on stand-by incase something does happen. I'll do everything in my power to make sure that everyone's safe," he looked off to the side, hearing one crewman shout an order for the others to lift a huge crate.

"And Scarlett's brought the rifle you asked for, just in case," Hector spoke again and Scarlett held up the gun case for the instructor to see.

"Good," Channing turned back, making light reflect off of his sunglasses. "We should have at least some protection. I also brought my pistol. And some of the staff and technicians brought a few firearms. We don't want to get in a bind where we need them and don't have them."

"Yeah. And when are you scheduled to be back?"

"August 1st or 2nd," Scarlett and Channing answered together.

Channing laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "It really depends on the weather. I'll send you an email the day before. We'll come back a few weeks before the fall semester starts so that the students can write a report on the data they collect. It's part of the undergraduate research. We'll make sure they get back home with _plenty_ of time to spare."

"Ugh, no! Don't mention school right now! We just got our freedom back!" Zoey complained dramatically, dragging her hands down her face and earning a chuckle from the adults.

"Well, I'd better get going before I don't leave at all," Hector pursed his lips. "Can I get one more hug, Scarlett?" Scarlett rolled her eyes, but hugged him again. "Have fun," he told her.

"I'll be back before you know it," she smiled.

He looked at her one last time and walked down the ramp. Scarlett had worn a brave face all the way here, but now, she felt a small, suffocating feeling, like she would never see him again. He wasn't going to be there for her. She was going to be thousands of miles away and he wouldn't be able to come get her if something happened.

 _Stop it, Scarlett. Stop it. You're going to be fine. Zoey's with you and there are plenty of people on board. You're not alone. You'll have fun._

This was the time to spread her wings, to be free from the prison of her daily routine of going to school, studying until she crashed, and waking up to do the same thing all over again the next day. It was going to be different. And fun.

Channing turned to the girls. "We'll be setting off in about an hour. You're sharing a cabin with Zoey, so she can show you the way there," he told Scarlett. "Dinner will be served later tonight in the lounge."

Scarlett nodded her head and slid the gun case off of her shoulder, "What should I do wi—"

There was a deafening clanging sound as something metal collided with metal, making all of them startled. They glanced over to see a large, toppled-over, empty crate on a dolly with several scuba tanks making an escape towards the open railing.

"Hey!" Channing ran towards the tanks and stopped them with his leg. He carefully picked one up and put it standing upright again before rounding on the crewmen. "Be careful with these! You screw around with them and we'll all be blown sky high!"

Zoey began backing away nervously. "Uhhh…let's go, Scarlett. We'll talk to him later."

"Y-yeah," Scarlett nodded her head stiffly, wanting to get as far from the situation as possible. The thought of them being so close to a potential bomb was pretty nerve-wracking.

"Gimme a bag," Zoey seized Scarlett's tote bag and began to lead the way. Scarlett looked at Channing as they left, watching him recover the oxygen tanks with the other deckhands. She and Zoey probably should've helped them, but Zoey seemed more than eager to lead the way to their cabin.

"Good grief, girl, what's in here?!" Zoey struggled to keep herself upright from under the weight of Scarlett's bag.

"Things. Quit being so dramatic. Besides, I'm sure you've brought twice as much as me."

Zoey stuck her tongue out and they went below deck. The hallway was extensive with several metal doors on each side of it, each leading to a small room. Their voices and footsteps echoed off the gray, metallic walls. A few more deckhands passed by them, carrying a stereo and a medium-sized television among other electronics.

"Aw, crap. We forgot the nine inch. One of you go back and get it from my room," one man carrying a speaker said. One of the three guys carrying the medium-sized box television left the other two, making them buckle under the weight.

The older man, who had his coveralls undone down to his waist inhaled sharply. "Okay, okay, I got this side! What about you?"

The other younger-looking man, who had dark, unruly hair and wore a backwards cap with the ship name on it, seemed to be struggling, for his arms were quaking. "Uh…uh, we might need a third guy," he grunted.

"Don't be a pansy, man. You've lifted heavier things."

"I'm carrying three-fourths of the weight here, though!"

They strained moving down the hallway and the younger one backed up to get a better grip on the TV, but not before he collided into Scarlett, knocking her into the wall rather roughly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he frantically apologized while almost letting the television crash to the floor.

"Don't you let go, dude!" the other man groaned through clenched teeth.

"It's okay," Scarlett shook her head dismissively and rubbed her arm. It was still throbbing. "I'm fine. It's no big deal. Just go. That thing's heavy," she repeatedly pointed down the hallway, urging them to be on their way.

Zoey turned around to see what was happening. "What's the TV for? You guys having a party or something?"

The older man with coveralls said, "Yeah. About once a week, we like to have a little get-together; watch some TV, play cards, drink beer."

"Is this just a guy thing or…" Zoey trailed off, raising an eyebrow to ask the question without saying it out loud. The two men looked at each other, not sure of what to say. Scarlett grabbed Zoey's arm.

"Zoey, let's go. You can't invite yourself to a party. That's rude. And we're holding them up. That TV's not getting any lighter." She turned to the men, "Sorry, you guys." She began to push Zoey forward. She couldn't believe that her friend was trying to get the two of them into a men's party.

"W-wait!" the young deckhand called out, making the two girls turn around. He couldn't possibly…"You can come. It'll be in the lounge." His partner shot him a confused look. "Yeah, you can invite some of your college friends too so we can all get to know each other a little better since we'll be on the same ship for the next two months. It'll be on Saturday at seven o'clock. You both twenty-one?"

Scarlett opened her mouth to bashfully answer "no", but Zoey jumped right in before she could get a word out.

"Yep. The big two-one! We both made it just this past month!"

"Well, happy belated birthday to you both! My name's Connor, by the way. I would shake you ladies' hands, but y'know…" he nodded to the TV with a smile.

"Not a problem. I'm Zoey," she grinned and gestured to Scarlett. "And this is my B.F.F. Scarlett."

Scarlett made a small wave with her hand. The older man cleared his throat to get Connor's attention.

"Oh, and this is Mike. Sorry, he's normally not this crabby." Mike snorted in reply and began to move forward, making Connor follow. "Fine, fine. We'll go!" He turned and called back to the girls. "It was nice to meet you. Look forward to seeing you around."

"Nice to meet you too! Thanks for inviting us! We'll be there!" Zoey waved back like a little school girl until the men disappeared up the stairs. Scarlett turned to Zoey with narrowed eyes.

"What was that? We're not twenty-one."

"Oh, c'mon. We only have a few more months," Zoey shot back. "Besides, did you see how cute Connor was? And I bet there are more like him around here."

"But that 'Mike' guy had to be, like, thirty-five."

"Doesn't mean that they're all that old! We need to find you a man, Scarlett. Ever since Justin, you've been a stick in the mud."

Scarlett's jaw dropped. "I have not! I'm just…not ready to meet somebody yet," she mumbled softly. After her old high school sweetheart broke up with her, her self-esteem plummeted. He had wanted things to end because they were going to different colleges that were far from each other. Scarlett had said she could handle a long distance relationship, but apparently he couldn't. He said "we should explore the possibilities out there". She knew what that meant: there were more fish in the sea and he didn't want to call it quits yet. But if something wasn't broke, why would he want something new? That was the question Scarlett always kept asking herself. Was she just not interesting enough for him? Did he think he could do better? The questions and paranoia began to eat away at her confidence until she didn't want to be around anyone anymore. Did everyone else think of her as Justin did? When she had asked that question to Zoey once, her friend told her she was being ridiculous and dragged her out of her mopey state little by little by taking her out to places, showering her with praise, and forcing her to do things that she'd rather not. Scarlett had improved the image she had of herself after a while, but she didn't know if she'd be prepared for another relationship. What if the same thing happened again?

"Well, it's been two years," Zoey complained. "It's time to move on. And being at sea is the perfect place to do that."

Scarlett hung her head and muttered, "Maybe…"

Zoey turned around after hearing her low tone and saw Scarlett's sagging face. "No 'maybes'! Only 'yes-es'!" she stuck her fist into the air. They stopped in front of a door marked "9". "Well, here's our room. I already brought my stuff in," Zoey pushed open the metal door. The room was cramped with plain-looking bunk beds, a wooden desk, and a closet. Zoey's luggage took up most of the floor space. There was one empty suitcase open with most of the clothes thrown onto a shelf in the closet and a knapsack with its contents sprawled all over the bed: books, magazines, notepads, pens, candy wrappers, a polaroid camera with already developed pictures beside it, a laptop with headphones, and one of those old-fashioned magnetic gyro wheel toys.

"Sorry…it's kinda messy. I've been waiting here a while," she sheepishly scratched her blonde head. "I got dropped off early this morning and have been waiting for you ever since."

Scarlett scoffed and dropped the bag from her shoulder. "Is there any room left for me?"

Zoey grinned mischievously and pointed her index finger upwards. "The top bunk."

Scarlett instantly narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so." She wheeled her large suitcase by the bottom bunk, gathered everything that was already laying there into her arms, and dumped it on the empty desk. Then she kicked her friend's bag off of the blue quilt and replaced it with her gun case.

"I know you did not just do that!" Zoey wagged her finger like she was fussing a child, but it was more humorous than anything. "Whoever got here first gets dibs on whatever bunk they want," she threw Scarlett's duffel bag up onto the higher mattress. Scarlett snorted.

"Says who?" she pulled her bag back down.

"Says…" she paused, trying to come up with an answer. Snapping her fingers, she said, "The laws of nature: the early bird gets the worm."

Scarlett came up with a better comeback. "But who's older by a few weeks, hmm? What does nature say about seniority?"

"But who's gonna be staying up later partying and come back to the room drunk at 4 a.m.? She's going to need a bed to crash in because she can't climb a ladder when she's in that state."

"Who's the more responsible one around here? And you'll just sleep on the floor if you come back drunk and wake me up," Scarlett dismissed jokingly with a wave of her hand. "Or on one of the shelves in the closet," she smirked. Zoey was mortified and put her hand to her chest in shock before scrambling to form another response in retaliation. She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips together. Scarlett was quite amused.

"Yeah, well…who's gonna make me? You?" Zoey dared, raising her eyebrow condescendingly and crossed her arms. "I've taken on my brother and he's twice your size," she belittled. Scarlett's eyes glanced towards the bed. She craned her neck forward to get in her friend's face and spoke in an evil, devious tone.

"Who's the one with the gun?"

Zoey stopped and narrowed her eyes. Checkmate. "Fine. You win."

Scarlett grinned smugly. "You'll like climbing up there. You'll feel like a monkey."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Zoey dismissed, retrieving and wheeling her own suitcase into the space between the wall and the beds. She stacked another duffel on top of that one and, finally, a decorative-looking tote on top. Scarlett pointed to it.

"What's in there?"

"Things," she replied in a sarcastic voice. Scarlett climbed across the bed to seize the bag. "Hey!" Zoey shouted and tried to stop her. Scarlett got her hands on it, but Zoey tackled her, making Scarlett's upper body fall off of the bed. She opened the tote and saw it was a makeup organizer with everything from eyeshadow to lip gloss.

"Why'd you bring your tackle box full of makeup?"

Zoey gave her a pouty look. "'Cause…'cause…"

"Were you planning on hooking up with a guy on this ship? Or…multiple guys?" Scarlett whispered the last part.

Zoey huffed dramatically and rolled her eyes. "Nooo…" she trailed off in a deep voice. Scarlett was not convinced and rolled her eyes as well, but said nothing. It wasn't her business to meddle in other people's lives. If Zoey wanted to be like that, she couldn't stop her. Besides, if she tried to give a lecture, it would make her friend want to rebel more.

"Wanna start unpacking?" Scarlett changed the subject to get them back on the same page. Zoey nodded.

"Sure. Put on some music too. I'm feeling…" she tapped her chin a few times, as if deep in thought, and then perked up, "…vintage!" Scarlett rolled her lower half off of the bed, took her iPod out from her bag, and plugged it into a portable speaker.

"What's it going to be today?" Scarlett smiled while scrolling through her song selections.

"I'm thinking…the Led."

Scarlett smugly commented, "Told you I'd get you to like them," and played the first Led Zeppelin song that came up.

"Yeah, whatever; 'Scarlett's right', 'Scarlett knows everything', 'Scarlett's got great taste in music'," Zoey mocked in a deep comical voice.

Scarlett felt the need to rub it in some more and grinned puckishly. "Aww, look, see? You're able to say it without me even telling you! Ow-!" Zoey had seized the pillow on the bed and struck her in vengeance.

"That's for being a smart-ass, missy!"

"Fine, fine. I'll stop!" she grabbed a neatly folded white pillowcase and waved it above her head to announce surrender. Zoey nodded curtly and they began to put their belongings in the appropriate places: clothes in closet, sheets on mattresses, paper, books, and writing utensils in desk, laptop charging on top of said desk, ship information and personal pictures pinned to the bulletin board, gun case under bed. Once they finished, Zoey collapsed as if she were defeated after a long, arduous battle.

"Ugh, finally done! I can't wait to get in the water. It'll feel so good." She turned on her side and propped herself up on one arm. "I hope we'll get to see something really cool, like a great white."

Scarlett laughed, "Woah, slow down there, Evel Knievel. You know how freaked out you would be if we saw one? Your heart would be pounding so hard, that it would be drawn to us like a fat kid on cake!" she exclaimed while stacking her folded clothes more properly in the closet.

"Hey, I wouldn't be the only one! I bet you'd probably pee yourself if we saw one." Zoey teased. Scarlett turned around.

"Not before you do," she laughed.

"Okay, okay, look," Zoey hurriedly rolled off of the bed and stood up before Scarlett could say anything else. "If either of us pisses ourselves, we'll give the other twenty dollars. Is that a good deal?" Zoey stuck out her hand confidently. Scarlett stared at it and cracked a smile. This was going to be an interesting trip. Definitely worth remembering. She clasped Zoey's hand.

"Deal. And whenever it happens, you MUST tell the other person, otherwise you're a crappy friend."

Zoey put all of her weight on one leg and leaned back, wearing a smirk. "Would I ever lie to you, best friend?"


	2. Day 1: Morning

****A/N:**** ** **Thanks to Bolondka for leaving a review last chapter! It was much appreciated! :D And a thanks to The Hobbit Diet for beta-reading for me. Also much appreciated! :)****

 ** **Disclaimer:**** ****I don't own Tomb Raider at all. None of it!****

 ** **Warning:**** ** **This chapter contains blood and gore.****

* * *

The water was cool as the sun hadn't had time to warm it yet. Channing handed a diving mask to Scarlett while Zoey entered the steel cage right beside her, jumping right in and splashing Scarlett.

"Whew, that's cold!" Zoey shivered. Scarlett gave her a glare and wiped the water from her face.

"It'll get warmer," Channing told her, kneeling down on a platform at the back of the boat that was nearly level with the water's surface. "Today's an easy day. You'll just take some pictures and get accustomed to the regulators."

Scarlett nodded and put the regulator in her mouth. Channing passed a picture camera to her.

"How long are we gonna stay down?" Zoey asked, putting her own mask over her blonde hair.

"We're putting you through thirty minute intervals and then you'll swap with Amy and Chrissy. After that, they'll swap with Cassandra and Cole and so on. Be careful with that camera, Scarlett. That's at least five hundred dollars you're holding in your hands."

Scarlett nodded, gave a thumbs up, and then submerged herself under the water, not being able to suppress her excitement any longer.

"Wish us luck," Zoey saluted Channing and also went under.

All Scarlett could see was blue. She looked below through the rectangular grid-like cage floor and only saw an abyss of nothingness. The only things in sight were the cage, Zoey, the ship, and the chum that the deckhands and other students were fishing out into the water to bait marine life. Scarlett brought the camera up to eye-level. This was so exciting, definitely better than just looking at textbook pictures. For years she sat in a classroom, daydreaming about being underwater and now, it was really happening. If she saw something today, anything at all, it would just be icing on the cake. She looked at Zoey, whom gave her two thumbs-up. Scarlett pulled her lips back in a grin and snapped a picture. That was one for the photo album. She pointed to Zoey, then to the camera, and back to herself. Zoey nodded and took it from her.

As she was focusing the camcorder, Zoey noticed a shadow over Scarlett's left shoulder. She hurriedly pointed to it, making the brunette turn around. Scarlett gripped the bars on the cage, glued to them, as if doing that would help her get a closer look. It looked sleek, whatever it was. The closer it came, the harder her heart pounded. She had never seen a shark this close up before. From what everybody said, they were supposedly massive creatures. The girls could now see the outline of it. It had a long body and fins…

Scarlett smiled through her regulator.

It was a dolphin. It swam past the cage to snatch some loose chum floating on the surface of the water. Zoey raised the camera and took a snapshot. The dolphin noticed the bright flash and immediately swam off. Damn! Scarlett shoved Zoey's shoulder, getting her attention. She pointed at Zoey and made a thumbs-down, letting her best friend know of her disgust. She could see Zoey roll her eyes and shake her head before handing the camera back to Scarlett. But still, they saw a dolphin; a real, live sea creature! It was even better than SeaWorld!

Five minutes went by with the two of them staring into nothing. Scarlett was at the left side of the cage and Zoey was gazing through the floor. Scarlett was desperately hoping for the dolphin to come back. She felt like a little kid anxiously waiting to see an animal come out of its cage at the zoo. Her head kept scanning from left to right, waiting and hoping for any sign of movement.

Suddenly, another sleek gray figure swam right in front of the cage. It was the dolphin! Yes!

Zoey stuck her hand out of the cage and grabbed a discarded fish head from the chum-cicle floating nearby. She held it out in front of her, her arm completely exposed and unprotected to the big blue. They, technically, weren't supposed to stick their limbs out of the cage. Channing had taught them that in the safety lesson they had on the first day aboard the vessel. Scarlett tried to grab Zoey's extended arm, but Zoey pushed her away. The dolphin made another round next to the cage and Scarlett quickly put the camera back up to her face. Just before it swam right in front of them, Zoey let go of the fish head and it went right into the dolphin's mouth. Scarlett took a picture, capturing the animal's size with Zoey's body for scale. It was at least the length of a small car.

They heard a metallic "pinging" noise coming from behind them. What was it? They peered above to see Channing gesturing for them to surface. As soon as Scarlett and Zoey's heads popped out of the water and they removed their regulators, Channing was on them.

"What did I say about sticking arms and legs outside the cage?" Scarlett looked at Zoey. Both of them said nothing. "Do you know _why_ we have rules?" he asked them.

"Safety," Zoey whispered, avoiding his eye.

"Right. I don't want to have to call your parents saying that you lost a limb because you fed an animal. They're not just meant to be boring 'rules'," he made quotation marks with his fingers for emphasis. "They're safety precautions."

Scarlett bowed her head, not sure if she was being fussed at too. She had tried to stop Zoey, after all. Zoey looked to Scarlett.

"I take the full blame for it, Mr. Channing. Scarlett tried to pull my arm back in, but I ignored her," Zoey confessed. "So just…punish me if you're going to do it. Do your worst," she sighed as if the words were painful to pronounce. Scarlett raised her eyebrows in astonishment and Channing scratched his bristly gray stubble, wondering what the proper penalty should be for her offense. Most people knew better than to stick their hand out into the open ocean, especially when there was a food source being provided for marine life to feed on. His gaze flicked to the red-headed student on deck, Cassandra, flinging crimson innards with fish scales still attached to them into the water. Her face was scrunched up as she attempted to block the putrid odor of chum by burying her nose into the crook of her arm. She momentarily stopped working to bend over and put her hands on her knees. She gagged once and covered her mouth, ready to puke. Channing turned back down to Zoey.

"Alright. You'll sit out your next turn and relieve Cassandra from chum duty. She's not looking too good."

Zoey raised a thumb in the air, water dripping from her wet suit, and sarcastically sighed, "Great."

"Maybe you'll think twice before sticking your arm out into the open again. I know it was just a dolphin, but we don't know anything about it. These are wild animals and they're unpredictable. Now, you two get out of the water and go take a break. Tell Amy and Chrissy it's their turn and then meet back here in an hour," he ended and left to go check on a nauseous Cassandra. Scarlett turned to her friend.

"Wow, Zoey, I'm impressed," she stated as she climbed onto the platform and then proceeded to ascend the white rigid ladder leading up to the deck of the ship.

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong," Zoey said, right behind her.

"It was just impressive to watch you take a punishment for once."

"Well, I'm the one who did it. I shouldn't always let you play the martyr, y'know?" Scarlett snorted at the thought. Indeed, she was always the one covering for Zoey; making study guides and cheat sheets for the both of them when they had an approaching exam, doing the housekeeping to keep their apartment from becoming a pig sty, cooking the major meals, and being the designated driver on multiple occasions. Sure, Zoey had a part-time job during the semester and that brought home some money so that they could share, but their "married couple" roles sometimes caused friction. Zoey would come back from work or class, fix herself something to eat, then leave everything out for Scarlett to clean up while she went and took a nap. Then, Scarlett would return back to their apartment after classes all day to find a sink full of dishes waiting for her and proceed to curse under her breath. On one occasion, she taught Zoey a lesson by not washing a single piece of silverware for days on end until the blonde girl finally broke down and grumbled as she began to clean nearly every dish in the kitchenette. That must have whipped her butt into shape because she began to help out a lot more with the housekeeping after that.

Both girls reached the deck and Zoey helped Scarlett take the oxygen tank off of her back.

"That dolphin was pretty awesome, though," Zoey spoke on a lighter note. Scarlett whipped around to face her, her demeanor completely changed with eyes full of excitement.

"Oh my gosh, it was amazing! I didn't think they would be that big. They're, like, twice our size." Scarlett couldn't wait to see the animal again, but her face fell a little as she went to help Zoey with the tank on her back. "Sorry you have to sit out the next round, though. That really sucks. I wonder who I'm gonna be paired with now."

Zoey shrugged. "It's not all bad." She lowered her voice to a whisper and grinned. "Maybe I could convince Connor to scoop some slop with me," she nudged Scarlett's shoulder, her smile growing wider. "Huh? Maybe we can get more details on the party later tonight. Ooh, I could even try to set you up with him. That's how good of a friend I am: instead of me going for the hot guy, I'll let you have first dibs," Zoey said, as though she were a saint.

"Zoey, please…" Scarlett rolled her eyes, acting like she couldn't care less, but quickly scanned the area on board for the deckhand. It was scary to talk to a new person, but if said person was interested in you, it could be fun getting to know them. She spotted Connor at the far end of the ship, wearing a white t-shirt and a hat. He was leaning against the railing with his arms crossed, waiting for his fishing line to twitch with life. He did look cute…Maybe she could just try and talk with him, become acquaintances, at least. It would be a start. "Okay," Scarlett breathed, "You can talk to him. But keep it casual. Nothing embarrassing," she told Zoey in a stern voice. Zoey stuck out her bottom lip and pouted.

"Aw, c'mon. Not even about you still sleeping with your bear, Winnie the Pooh?" she teased in a baby voice. "Or the fact that you still sleep with a night light?"

Scarlett gave her a hostile glare. It was not the dark she was afraid of. It's what was in the dark that scared her. She sometimes got scared of the images her mind conjured whenever it was completely pitch black.

Zoey held up her hands in defense. "Okay, okay. Got it. I know what to do," she smiled and rubbed her hands together like she was about to start a project. "Nothing like a little romance over a bucket of dead fish guts."

* * *

Scarlett was back in the water again an hour later. It was warmer this time. Her new partner was Cole. She had him in several of her classes the past two years and would occasionally talk to him about the classwork. He was more into the technology side of marine biology, putting together and disassembling cameras, sonar equipment, and tracking devices to be put on the animals. Every now and then, however, he skipped classes and fell behind on schoolwork, which would usually result in him scraping by with a "C" average at the end of the semester. He was a pretty cool guy and Scarlett knew he was smart; he was just lazy. He didn't do the homework half of the time and when he did, it was the bare minimum and frequently turned in late. She was surprised he was even on this research trip. But, at least, he wasn't annoying and talked her ear off all of the time. He was an acceptable cage partner.

Scarlett watched as the blood from the chum floated above them. The intense color gave her an eerie feeling. She saw a faint outline of something further in the distance and poked Cole's shoulder to get his attention. When he turned to her, she pointed out in front of them. He aimed the camera and zoomed in. Whatever it was, it was moving quite fast. Then he saw it. Connor looked back at her, extended his hand, and put it vertically against his forehead. That meant shark. Shark. It was a shark! Oh, God! She was about to see one of the world's greatest predators. Her emotions were in two different places. Her first instinct was to swim for her life and get out of the water as quickly as possible for fear of getting torn apart. But her brain commanded that she stay stationary. She wanted to see it, to see what it really looked like up close.

The first thing Scarlett noticed about it were its fins. There were white patches on the ends of them. She recognized it instantly as an oceanic white tip. These were the ones that were infamous for attacking survivors of the USS _Indianapolis_ in the middle of the Pacific Ocean during World War II. It was one of the worse shark attacks in history and Scarlett knew damn well that this wasn't the best time to be thinking about this kind of stuff. Connor took a picture and, this time, the animal wasn't shy; it went straight for the chum. Connor handed the camera to Scarlett, but not before he twirled his index finger in a circle, telling her to turn around.

There was another shark. This one also had white on its fins. She was seeing two sharks now. At the same time! Scarlett's blood pressure began to rise as the second one swam right next to the cage and swerved to reach a quick meal. Scarlett didn't know about Cole, but she felt paranoid. This was cool to see and all, but she felt…vulnerable; almost naked, like they could squeeze their way right into the cage and rip into her; like they _knew_ she was easy prey.

A third shark swam in from below and joined the others nibbling at the chum-cicle. Scarlett took a photograph and moved right beside Cole for a closer shot. She aimed the camera up and snapped another picture, capturing their white bellies. The chum summoned two more and now a total of five sharks were fighting over the free food now, turning it into a mini-frenzy. Scarlett thought about Zoey and knew that the blonde girl would definitely be following the "no limbs out of the cage" rule right now. Both she and Cole were wearing a lightweight chainmail suit, but she didn't want to give the sharks a chance to see how well it protected the human body. She had seen divers on TV that had been in the middle of frenzies before, but this was much tenser than just watching it on a screen. It was happening right in front of her. And she wasn't sure if she liked it.

Without warning, something rammed into the top of the cage. Scarlett gazed upward to see what it was, but immediately wished she hadn't. All she saw were the sharp, pointy teeth of a mako shark; the kind that gave a person nightmares; the type that could puncture skin just like dozens of large needles at once. She flinched and closed her eyes, but still couldn't get the image out of her mind. No, no! She couldn't be scared. She could do this. This was what she had dreamed of doing for years! Opening her eyes, she saw Cole frantically pointing to the mako shark through her diver's mask. He was probably wondering why the hell she had suddenly gotten cold feet. Scarlett hesitantly positioned the camera between the bars of the cage, waiting for a good shot.

The white tips bumped into one another and one accidently mistook another's fin for food and bit down, drawing blood. It cut through that rigid fin like a box cutter through a piece of cardboard. It was that easy. What if that was her own flesh? Those teeth would slice through her with minimal effort and she would bleed out, making the water even redder. And then, more sharks would come to investigate. She would eventually pass out and then they would dismember her body and take her for parts. Or would Cole and Channing save her before that happened? What if her body got caught in a tug-of-war with one of these beasts when her crew tried to pull her out? Scarlett thought of her father when he had said: " _I don't want to get a call saying that a shark tore you in half._ " She wanted to surface and get out of there now, but the stubborn voice in her head argued with her.

 _No! Be brave, Scarlett. You're fine in the cage. They can't get you in here. Be brave! You've come this far. Don't chicken out now._

The mako shark circled around and was heading straight for Scarlett. She instinctively felt fear strike her, making her blood run cold. It was not a sight she would ever want to wake up to. She pressed the button on the camera and took a picture, but the shark continued to gain speed. The two students in the cage realized that it was going for a fish head, but the piece of chum had floated inside of the cage and before Scarlett could think to react, the shark swam right into the lens of the camera and sank its teeth into it. Scarlett instinctively let go of the camera and pushed off of the bars to the back of the cage, absent-mindedly releasing the regulator from her mouth and letting out a mass of bubbles. The regulator was still projecting oxygen into the water as she watched the shark trying to take the camera out of the cage. Its eyes were still rolled back into its head from attacking. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to get out of there now! Scarlett sprang up to the surface and took in the deepest breath she ever had in her life. She coughed a bit and immediately swam to the platform.

"Scarlett?! You okay?" Channing asked. She curled up and hugged the ladder, not responding. She was shaking all over. Cole resurfaced as well with the camera. "Get back up here, you two," Channing ordered. Once they were back on deck, Channing sat Scarlett down and took her mask off. "Are you okay, Scarlett?" She automatically nodded as water dripped from her braid into a puddle on the metal ground.

"The camera's got a few scratches," Cole handed the expensive device to his mentor, whom began rotating and inspecting it carefully. "I think the pictures will be okay, though."

Hurried footsteps clinked against the metal deck as Zoey came running to see why a group had formed around her best friend.

"Hey, are you okay?!" she knelt down beside her.

"Yeah…" Scarlett whispered, staring at the metal plating of the deck. It was obvious she wasn't alright.

"What happened down there?" Channing questioned Cole, whom slid the tank from his back.

"I think the mako went for some chum that floated inside the cage, but got the camera instead."

"She's not hurt, is she?"

"I didn't see anything," Cole shook his head.

"She's probably just in shock." Channing stooped down to her level while Zoey took the oxygen tank off of Scarlett's back and removed the fins from her feet. "Hey, it's okay. You're fine. You can be done for the day. Go get cleaned up. Here…" Channing helped her stand and turned to the blonde girl. "You stay with her, Zoey. Make sure she's alright." Zoey nodded, took Scarlett's hand, and began to lead her below deck to take off the rest of her suit.

Right before they went down the stairs to exit the deck, Scarlett heard Connor shout from halfway across the ship, "Hey! Hey! I hooked a mako! Can I get some help over here?!"


	3. Day 1: Late Afternoon

****A/N:**** **I know things are slow now, but they will pick up in the next few chapters. I promise. And thanks to Bolondka and Howling2themoon for leaving reviews last chapter! I get so excited when I see that notification in my inbox :D Another special thanks to The Hobbit Diet for beta-reading! All of you guys are great!**

* * *

Once she got out of the shower, Scarlett's body felt refreshed, but her mood was sour. She couldn't believe how scared she had gotten out there. She had been waiting to get in the water and study sharks up close for years now, but the first time she encountered them, she got cold feet. It felt embarrassing, like maybe she wasn't cut out for this kind of work. She wanted to be, though. She wanted to be so badly. She headed back to her room and sat on the bed, towel-drying her long, dark hair. Maybe what had happened today was just a fluke. Who's to say that it would happen again? The worse thing for her self-confidence right now would be not going back in the water. She would have to make herself overcome this fear sooner or later.

"So," Zoey closed the book she was reading and peered over the unmade top bunk, her hair falling over the side of the bed frame, "feeling better?" Scarlett shrugged. "Aw, c'mon. I think it was just a freak thing. I'm sure the shark didn't intentionally go for you."

"I know," Scarlett said and searched for her wallet in her tote bag. She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and placed it on Zoey's pillow. "Here."

Zoey flitted with the bill, wearing a confused look. "What's this?"

"You won the bet. I peed in the water."

Zoey's face fell. It hardly seemed worth taking the money now since her best friend had recently been traumatized. "Oh. I was just kidding about that. I don't want it," she handed the money back to Scarlett, but Scarlett shoved her hand away.

"No, a deal's a deal."

Zoey shook her head, "Scarlett, I really don't want it."

"Would you just take it?! Please?!" she ordered in an irritable tone and immediately wanted to take back the outburst after seeing her friend flinch in response. It felt like a stab to the heart, knowing that she made Zoey feel attacked. Her face softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that," she bowed her head in shame and therapeutically rubbed her arm up and down.

"You okay?" Zoey hesitantly asked. Scarlett shrugged again. "A lot going on up here?" the blonde pointed to her head. Scarlett nodded. "Hey, tomorrow's a new day," she told her reassuringly. "You'll get back out there and see that you're freaking out over nothing. You just need to relax. And I'm going to help you."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow suspiciously. What kind of thing had Zoey been planning in order to de-stressify her? If it was anything like the time they had gone to a day spa to "relax", she wanted out. The workers at that place had laid piping hot rocks on her back, giving Scarlett second degree burns, to which she heatedly demanded a refund. She also remembered the time when Zoey had found a recipe to make a homemade facial mask on the internet to moisturize their skin. It had ended up irritating their skin instead, with Zoey contracting a mild rash and Scarlett breaking out with bad acne. Basically, whenever Zoey had an idea to "relax" and pamper themselves, it usually didn't end well.

"How so?" Scarlett wondered, trying to guess what _bright_ idea she had this time. Zoey jumped from her top bunk and landed on the floor, seemingly excited by what she had in mind, and went to her luggage in the corner.

"You, Miss Scarlett, are going to that hangout with the guys tonight." Scarlett's face fell and she opened her mouth to object, but Zoey continued on. "Don't worry. I'll be there too and Chrissy's going and so is Amy and Cassandra, so you won't be the only girl there. And, in order to prepare you for it, I am going to give you…" she reached for her makeup organizer inside her suitcase and opened the top, displaying every kind brush and color of the rainbow, "…a makeover."

Scarlett grimaced at the thought of her face being prodded at. She didn't favor the heavy, goopy makeup look. She would get by with just doing the bare minimum every day: foundation and eyeliner; maybe a little mascara if she felt like being pretty that day. Zoey, on the other hand, reveled in the cosmetic industry. She had every kind of cosmetic application and tool. She even had things that Scarlett had never heard of before. Until a few weeks ago, she had no clue what a beauty spoon was until she was shown one. And not only did Zoey have everything under the sun, but she knew how to apply it all correctly too. She could do a pair of smoky eyes without any flaws in less than five minutes.

"Aw, no, Zoey," Scarlett complained. "I don't wanna have to go through all of that. It's too much."

"I promise I won't go crazy," she assured giddily and sat Scarlett down on the bed. "You'll be a hundred percent natural. Just enhanced." Zoey was just trying to be a good friend and help her. She really was. And maybe she was right. Scarlett just needed something to distract her from earlier today. And this would definitely help with that. She exhaled.

"Fine. Have at it," she gestured to her face with both of her hands and Zoey rubbed her hands together cunningly, happily determined to undertake her new task. She turned on some music and began to lay out her equipment.

Twenty minutes later, Scarlett had undergone eyebrow plucking, a facial massage with moisturizer and primer, and had a uniform complexion thanks to two layers of foundation. Zoey sang along to the songs on the iPod while working. She made Scarlett chuckle when she would switch between all of the parts of the songs, going from the melody, to the backup singers' parts, and then the guitar solos. But in all honesty, she was quite good. Scarlett had told her she should take some music classes at school or join the choir, but Zoey would always turn it down. She didn't like the idea of music having rules or discipline. She marched to her own drum or to whatever drum was playing at the moment.

" _She was a long cool woman in a black dress, justa 5'9, beautiful, talll…_ " Zoey sang along to the song by The Hollies as she applied a highlighter shade on Scarlett's eyelids. "Okay, open." Scarlett raised her eyelids and Zoey nodded her head with a smirk. "Oh, yeah. I am good," she praised herself. She put her brush down, grabbed the liquid eyeliner, and showed it to Scarlett. "Almost done."

"Don't poke my eye out," she warned. Zoey scoffed in return. "So, can I borrow some of your confidence tonight?" Scarlett asked. She was as still as a statue as Zoey applied the makeup.

"Girl, with a face this pretty, you should be confident all of the time."

"I don't get it. How are you a people person? I can't just go up to somebody and start talking about anything. I have to practice what I'm going to say in my head at least three or four times before I actually say it."

"The problem is you worry too much. Don't," Zoey told her, finishing with the liner and reaching for the mascara. "You have the rest of your life to do that. That's what I tell myself. Live for the moment! There will always be a tomorrow. That's your life lesson for today," she instructed and began to paint the brunette's eyelashes.

Scarlett exhaled a small laugh, keeping her eyes as open as possible. "I wish it were that easy."

"Well, that's why you have me. We go hand-in-hand, like 'peas and carrots'," she said in a low voice, imitating Tom Hanks from the movie _Forrest Gump_ , and pulled Scarlett up from the bed to stand her in front of the mirror on the inside of the closet door to see the final results. Scarlett's eyes looked at her reflection and she was in awe at the girl staring back. It was her, just…better looking. Her green eyes popped with the purple eyeshadow and her skin looked flawlessly smooth, not to mention her eyebrows were on point. She wished she could look like this every day without the effort.

"Holy crap," she whispered and stood even closer to the mirror. Zoey put her hands on her hips.

"Well, if I must say so myself, you look like a beauty queen, Miss Scarlett. Now, any thoughts as to what you're gonna wear?" Scarlett looked at her friend silently as the song on her iPod changed. She hadn't thought that far in advance and a look of panic became evident on her face, making Zoey smile. "Don't worry. I've got you covered," she reached into her duffel bag and pulled out one of her black tank tops, tossing it on the bed. Scarlett held it up in front of her. It was a simple tank top with thin shoulder straps and white lace around the neckline.

"This is pretty cute," she admitted and shed her t-shirt to pull the new garment over her head. As she straightened it out and looked in the mirror, her nose wrinkled. More cleavage was showing than she would have preferred. "It's kinda low, though," she tugged at the top, pulling it upwards.

"No, that's just the way it's made," Zoey pulled it back down, revealing a large portion of Scarlett's breasts. "And they look good," she winked.

"Don't you think it's a little much, though? I mean, we're going to be around guys…" She was just going to meet some people, not clubbing.

"That's precisely _why_ you should wear it! Spice up your life a little bit! You never do anything crazy. One day when you're old and gray, you can look back on this day and tell your grandchildren you used to dress like a hot mama."

Scarlett wanted to fiddle with the scooped neckline again. "I don't know…"

"Trust me," she nodded with a serious look. "Do it. Show off those puppies."

Scarlett shook her head and smiled at her best friend for being so serious. "Alright. Okay. I'll do it."

Zoey shook her head. "No, you can't say it like that. You have to have a high level of self-confidence. I want you to say 'My name is Scarlett and I am sexy'."

Scarlett rolled her eyes and mumbled the words under her breath. Zoey put a hand to her ear.

"What?" she pretended to strain to hear.

"My name is Scarlett and I'm sexy…" the brunette said a little louder. She hoped nobody was passing by their room right now.

"What?! I can't hear you?!" Zoey shouted above the music.

God, how loud did she want her to be? Scarlett took a deep breath and opened her mouth.

"My name is Scarlett," she exclaimed, "and I am sexy!"

"Whoo!" Zoey slapped her friend's rear, excited that she had gotten the girl to raise her voice to the heavens. "That's what I'm talking about! Now, keep up that energy and you might have a new beau by the end of the night."

Once Zoey had curled Scarlett's hair and put it into a ponytail, she sighed, "Phew, finally done! Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower to get all this ocean off of me. And then it'll be mama's turn to get hot!" She grabbed a change of clothes and left for the shower. Scarlett paced around the tiny room in a nervous fit. Her stomach was in knots. Minutes had gone by, eventually turning into a half hour, and then an hour. Scarlett had sat in the chair at the desk and spun around in circles, and then laid on her bed, playing a game on her phone while she nervously waited for Zoey to come back. After checking the time ten minutes later, she heard her blonde friend padding down the hallway and into the room.

"What were you doing in there for so long?" Scarlett asked in disbelief. Who the hell would take that long for a shower?

"Sorry, sorry. I know. But I had to shave and I found a little piece of chum wrapped up in my hair and it would not, for the life of me, come out!"

That quieted Scarlett real quick. "Oh…ew."

"'Ew' is right! And there were freakin' bones in it too. I almost decided to just cut it out of my hair," Zoey stood in front of the mirror and began to quickly tame her damp, disheveled hair with a light purple brush. After blow-drying her strawberry locks and putting it into a messy bun, she began to do her makeup while sitting on the floor in front of the mirror.

"Are you almost done?" Scarlett asked with an exhale. Zoey wasn't actually taking a super long time, a half hour at most since she had come back from the shower, but Scarlett's patience was waning after an hour and a half of waiting.

"Almosttt…Done!" she screwed the mascara tube closed and threw it on the bed. She pulled on some jeans, an oversized, flowy top, and slipped on her shoes. "Alright, let's go!"

"Finally…" Scarlett muttered and turned to the door.

"Hold on, hold on," Zoey spoke up, making the brunette roll her eyes, and went to her toiletry bag to retrieve a stick of deodorant. She hurriedly tucked her arms inside of her shirt and applied the antiperspirant, tossing it on the bed as well when she was done. "Okay! Ready!"

* * *

They made their way down the hall to the lounge, barely exchanging words. Scarlett felt too anxious to talk. Zoey tried to give her tips on how to behave, but she had either deemed the advice stupid, unnecessary, or inappropriate. A few times, she couldn't even tell if Zoey was being serious or not. When they got there, they saw a couple of folding tables to sit at along with the booths against the walls. The large television that they had seen the other day was sitting on a counter and some rock music from a sound system in the corner. The two girls entered into the room and there were only a few men present so far. Scarlett could feel their eyes surveying her exposed skin. It was too much. She had told Zoey it was too much! She practically ran to an empty booth and sat down while Zoey went to get some drinks. Scarlett twiddled her thumbs until her friend came back with two beers.

"So what do I say if somebody starts talking to me?" She was feeling the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Her eyes met an older man's from across the room and she suddenly felt slutty for being dressed in revealing clothing in the presence of a man almost her dad's age.

"Anything. I've told Connor to come talk to you, but I don't think he'll be paying attention to what you _say_ ," she made a cheesy grin.

"Zoey…" Scarlett's tone was worried now. She didn't want Connor to only stare at her breasts the entire time.

"Okay, okay. Just talk about him; about what he likes to do, y'know? Be interested in _him_. He'll appreciate that," Zoey told her and took a sip of beer.

As time progressed, more people showed up; both college students and crewmates. Scarlett's eyes were constantly scanning for Connor. How would he look? What would he say? What if she made a fool of herself? Scarlett shook her head and sipped some beer. It wasn't her first choice of drink, but she hoped it would loosen her up. Her nerves didn't seem to want to relax. She kept getting a lot of stares, but no one came and talked to her. Did it look like she was trying too hard?

"Hey, can I join you, ladies?" a male voice asked. Scarlett raised her head to see the owner and it was Connor. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"Sure," Zoey grinned and got out of the booth to let Connor sit in-between them. Scarlett scraped her nails against the glass of the beer bottle. What was he going to say? Hopefully, Zoey hadn't told him anything humiliating.

"Feeling better?" he asked her, head supported by his arm on the table. Scarlett didn't say anything as she stared intensively at her drink. Zoey faked a cough to get her attention, which immediately pulled her from her trance.

"Oh, me? Yeah, I'm okay," Scarlett waved a hand dismissively. Connor could tell she was lying.

"Don't feel embarrassed. I would've freaked out too. But we caught the bastard and have him in the freezer. He's good to go for research."

She timidly nodded. She wished for the subject to change. She was scared to look at that shark again, scared to look at those teeth and black, lifeless eyes. Connor sensed her uneasiness and attempted to shed some light on the situation.

"Hey, if you wanted, I could pull a tooth from it and make a necklace for you. It'd be like your own little trophy."

Scarlett smiled at him. "That'd be nice. Thank you."

Zoey grinned at the chemistry taking place. The beginnings of their relationship were like a small fire that needed work and nourishment to get started. And that was her job— to light the spark. But once the kindling had sported a flame, it was best to give it room to grow.

"I'm just gonna…go to that table. See what they're talking about," she pointed to where Chrissy, Cassandra, and two other young crewmates were sitting and left the potential couple alone. Connor smirked.

"That's one hell of a friend you've got there."

"Why?" Scarlett furrowed her eyebrows. "What'd she say?" Panic rose in her as her mind began to race, thinking of what kind of humiliating thing he's heard about her. She could almost kill Zoey right now.

"She talked about you, about how amazing and talented and sweet you are," he took a swig of beer.

"Oh…" Scarlett pressed her lips together. Whew…She felt like a small weight had been lifted off of her chest.

"You both been friends for a long time?"

"Oh, gosh, yeah," she smiled. "Since, like, the second grade."

"Same college?"

Scarlett nodded. "Yeah, we go to Ole Miss." It was then that she realized that he had gray eyes. They were dark, but had a cool tone to them. She could spend the whole night just looking into them without saying a word. But her nerves began to steadily return as those cool windows to his soul began to fill with confusion and he raised an eyebrow. What was wrong? Why did he look confused? What could she have…Oh, right. She had used the nickname for the school, which probably wasn't known nationwide. Scarlett let out a small laugh. "University of Mississippi," she clarified.

"Gotcha," he nodded. So far, so good. Connor took another sip of beer. "You look nice, by the way."

"Thanks. All of the credit goes to her, though," Scarlett pointed to Zoey. She took in a breath and held it. "Can I be honest with you?" she asked without looking at him.

"Sure," his eyes sparked with interest. Scarlett let the confession rush out of her like a raging river.

"I feel like this is way too much," she quickly said, gesturing to her upper body. "The makeup, the clothes…I'm not used to it. I wear t-shirts and shorts most of the time."

Connor laughed. "Well, I feel underdressed sitting here next to you. But she did a good job. I like what I see," he smiled. Scarlett felt like her face was on fire. She could almost giggle.

"I, ummm…like what I see…too…" She let the words leave her mouth like a water spigot being turned on and off repetitively. It felt weird saying them, like they weren't words people would normally say. They were too bold. People only talked like that in movies or books. His dark eyes stared deeply into hers. The moment felt so tense, she couldn't even blink.

He finally responded with a confident smirk, "So does the rest of the crew."

Scarlett laughed out loud. It was not an answer she expected, but it was funny. And it broke the ice completely.

"So, do you go to school?" she wondered, feeling at ease now.

"Nah. I've been working on this ship for about a year now, mostly maintenance. I know it sounds pretty boring. You've probably heard some more impressive life stories from these other guys, huh?" he said, eyes scanning various men. Scarlett shook her head, leaning back in the booth.

"Yours is actually the first I hear tonight," she smiled.

"Oh," Connor also leaned back in the booth and draped his arm over the top of it, seemingly proud of himself. "So, I guess I'm the bravest guy here," he nodded his head and surveyed the rest of the people in the room.

"What? They're _afraid_ of me? I'm not that hard to talk to. You're doing it," she exclaimed in total disbelief.

"Well, us, guys, are afraid of striking up a conversation with pretty girls," he answered and Scarlett felt her face blush harder. "I'll just put it to you this way: guys are way more scared to talk to girls than you might think. I mean, look at you, all beautiful and whatnot," he gestured to Scarlett, whose face was now the color of a tomato, "and then, look at that," he pointed to a middle-aged man with a large gut and oily hair. He made her laugh again. "It's just a little…intimidating, I guess. We don't want to say anything stupid to scare you away," he told her. Scarlett had never thought of men to be so terrified of simply talking to a woman. There was nothing scary about her. Maybe males were just as complicated as females when it came to their feelings. They just kept them bottled up inside so as to not put a damper on their masculinity. She would definitely have to share that information with Zoey later.

"So, I guess you like to fish too?" Scarlett went on.

"Every now and again," he shrugged. "Can I be honest with you now?"

"Okay…" Her heart began to beat faster. What if he was about to tell her a personal secret? Like if he was a convict, gay, married, rich, or dressed up as a girl when he was a baby? It could be anything.

"I dropped out of college a few years ago," he confessed with a slight frown. "Couldn't afford it anymore. And my grades weren't the best."

"Oh…" Scarlett's eyes were downcast. She had been hoping for something bigger, but he got her attention again.

"But talking to a college girl, I already feel smarter," he smirked.

"I bet you're smart in other things, like I'm sure you know which bait is best to catch a certain type of fish or something like that. I actually feel stupid a lot of times. Usually, I overthink things," she confessed. "But everybody's got something they're good at. People just use schooling to measure intelligence and that's not always fair…" Her eyes wandered and she noticed Zoey looking at her from the table across the room. The blonde batted her eyelashes and flipped a portion of her hair glamorously. Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"What?" Connor wondered.

"Nothing. It's just Zoey," Scarlett began dragging her finger down the beer bottle to clean the condensation from the glass. Connor looked at the blonde and waved, making Zoey immediately cease her flirtatious acts and wave back. He leaned closer to Scarlett and spoke in a low voice, forcing her to lean in to hear. She could tell that she was giving him an even better view of her chest, but actually didn't mind it so much now. He seemed to truly be interested in _her_ , not just her body.

"We're gonna have to arrange our meetings without her in the future." She smiled and nodded. He whispered and Scarlett could feel his breath on her face. It smelled like beer. "I'd like to see you again. How about after work tomorrow? Say, eight o'clock in the freezer?" he suggested. Scarlett's eyebrows furrowed.

"In the freezer?" What the heck was there to do in the freezer?

"We can pull that shark tooth together and make a necklace."

"Oh!" she perked up, feeling a bit silly for forgetting. "Yeah, that sounds fun."

"So, it's a date?" he held out a hand to her. Scarlett giggled and took it.

"Yeah. It's a date." She couldn't wait to tell Zoey.


	4. Day 1: Night

****A/N:**** **Thanks for the review Bolondka! Don't worry, action is on the way. And thanks to The Hobbit Diet for helping me with this chapter as well!**

* * *

Zoey and Scarlett left the lounge and went back to their room around 10:30. Scarlett crashed facedown onto the bed and moaned, "God, I'm so tired!"

"Nooo! You can't go to sleep yet! You gotta give me the details!" Zoey whined, referring to Scarlett's conversation with Connor.

"Do I have to?" Scarlett grumbled into the quilt on the bed.

"Yes! What did you and him talk about?!"

Scarlett turned on her side, propped herself up on one arm, and told her best friend everything, sparing no details. She knew it was better to appease the blonde now rather than having her bug her every five minutes with questions like a toddler for the rest of the expedition. When Scarlett told Zoey about the part where Connor said that guys were terrified of approaching girls, she squealed with excitement, claiming it was "so cute". And when she revealed that she had a date tomorrow evening, Zoey squealed even more and flapped her hands like a baby bird trying to take off from the nest. Scarlett rolled her eyes and smiled, amused at her friend's teenaged reaction. She had no room to judge, though. She was giddy on the inside as well. A flash of light illuminated the cabin, followed by a low rumble. Zoey peered at the circular window revealing the night sky.

"I do hope the rain's gone by morning." She got up, brushed her hair into a ponytail, and grabbed her bag of toiletries. Scarlett was staring into the closet with a downcast expression. Her stomach clenched at the thought of going back in the water and having an anxiety attack all over again. But she knew the sooner she got back out there, the better. She couldn't let one bad episode dictate her experience on this trip. And Zoey would be right there with her if she got scared again. They were a bit too old to hold hands like children in elementary school, but the same concept would be there. She wouldn't have to face it alone.

"It'll be okay tomorrow. I promise," Zoey reassured in a soft tone, snapping her out of her trance. Scarlett nodded in response, knowing she was right. Zoey was a good friend. She shrugged off Scarlett's pessimism and worries most of the time, but she knew when to take her feelings seriously and support her. "You look really tired," Zoey told her. "You wanna go freshen up before me?"

Scarlett frowned. Getting up and splashing cold water on her face was not the most comfortable thought at the moment. Her bed was so warm and inviting and her eyes felt like they had a weight attached to them. She yawned and shook her head.

"No, you go," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "You take a while anyway. I'm gonna close my eyes for a few minutes. I think the beer's made me sleepy." She lay back face down on the bunk and closed her eyes as Zoey left the cabin.

Twenty minutes later, the blonde returned from the restroom, devoid of all makeup and dressed in a tank top and short pajama bottoms, only to see Scarlett right where she had left her. Whether she was actually asleep or not was the question.

"You can go now, Scarlett," Zoey spoke so quietly, it was nearly a whisper. Scarlett neither responded nor stirred, so she got closer to the bed. "You awake?" She was nearly a foot from the brunette's face, but still received no answer. "Guess not…" she sighed. Glancing behind her friend's form, she saw the stuffed bear of Winnie the Pooh. Zoey chuckled, leaned over, and grabbed it. Observing it, she could tell the thing was old. Its golden fur was now a light tan and it had a hole in the seam on the backside. It had been through so much with a worrisome Scarlett. The girl carried it around her house with her arm wrapped around its middle until she was about ten. When Zoey was the same age, she had thought it was silly how an older kid, almost a teenager, would still bring something like that with her everywhere she went. She turned her head to Scarlett's emotionless sleeping face. Even though both of them just entered their twenties, they didn't _feel_ like adults. It was scary to think of them leaving childhood behind for the rest of their lives and start "adult-ing", like having a job, responsibilities, planning a future…But that didn't mean they had to be _boring_ adults. Just because they were growing up didn't mean they had to stop being themselves. They could still have girl talks and act silly. It was often funny to think about how kids always wanted to be adults, but adults always wanted to be kids. Zoey placed the stuffed bear at her friend's side and smiled.

"Here, you've gotta big day tomorrow," she whispered to the sleeping girl and let her be. She closed the door quietly and flicked off the light switch, encasing the room in darkness. Another flash of lightning lit up the room and Zoey frowned before climbing up to her bunk to sleep. She really hoped the rain would slacken up. Working in a downpour was not high on her list of priorities for tomorrow.

* * *

 _BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!_

Zoey gasped in surprise at the abrupt alarm and rolled so far over that she went crashing onto the carpet while Scarlett shot up from the bed and hit her head on the bottom of the top bunk. Rubbing her head, she looked to her side to see Zoey moaning in pain and immediately got up.

"Are you okay?!" Scarlett shouted over the siren, helping her friend stand up.

"What the hell is that?!" Zoey cried, her hand covering one ear and the other clutching the post of the bunks. When Scarlett didn't know how to answer, the ship lurched unexpectedly and she was suddenly thrown forward and crashed into the closet door.

"I have no frickin' idea!" Scarlett replied, massaging her cheek. The sounds of fast winds and pounding rain came through the small window in the room. A boom of thunder resounded so loudly that they could feel it resonate in their chests like a bass drum.

"This can't be normal!" Zoey exclaimed, staring outside. "Let's go find somebody and see what's happening!"

"Yeah!" Scarlett opened the door to see flashing red lights on the ceiling blinking on and off, lighting the hallway one second and then plunging it into darkness the next. Something was definitely wrong.

Suddenly, a group of crewmen came around the corner of the corridor, shouting and sprinting at full speed, and Scarlett shrunk back into the cabin so as to not be run over. Across the hall, Scarlett saw Cassandra standing in the doorway of her cabin, looking back at her with the same petrified stare. She stepped out of the cabin to ask her if she knew what was happening, but they heard the echoes of another wave of shouting people bouncing down the metal walls. There were more this time, but the girls recognized a familiar face. Channing was among this stampede, carrying an armful of lifejackets and appearing disheveled with his hair wild and his shirt misbuttoned. He must have just rolled out of bed.

"We need to leave! Where is everyone?!" he questioned, frantically looking in every direction at once.

"I don't know!" Cassandra cried. "Chrissy was with Cole and I have no clue where Amy is! She said she would be back later!" She was on the verge of tears, telling him what he didn't want to hear.

"Wait!" Scarlett stopped to get everyone on the same page. "What's going on? Where's everybody going?!" she shouted at him. It was frightening for someone with his experience to possess a look as panicked as his. That meant that something was _seriously_ wrong.

"We're caught in a bad storm. Captain Hank gave orders to abandon ship," he said trying to catch his breath.

"What d'you mean 'abandon ship'?! Like, leave it?" Was the storm really so bad that they would have to leave all of their possessions behind? Her clothes, toiletries, wallet, books, iPod, everything? What were they going to do? Jump into the sea with nothing but the clothes on their backs? They were in the middle of the ocean for Christ's sakes! There was nothing or no one to come rescue them out here. They'd be alone for days.

The ship leaned slightly to the left, making them stagger.

"Water's already flooded the engines and reached the lower deck. The officers said that the waves are getting so rough that they could overturn the ship. We have to go!" He began to march forward, beckoning them to follow.

"Go where?!" Scarlett shouted at him.

"There's lifeboats at the back of the ship. Everyone's going for those."

The girls hastily put on whatever footwear was closest in the hallway and followed after him. The fierce waves kept hammering the vessel, making them trip and fall a few times. They started up the stairs for the top deck and headed for a life raft. It was already filled to the brim with people. One older man put his hand in front of Zoey, Scarlett, Cassandra, and Channing.

"This lifeboat's full. We can't take no more!"

"Are you shitting me?!" Channing yelled in disbelief.

"Go take the other one!"

The four of them instantly ran to the next one, which already had a handful of people struggling to loosen its lines.

"Put these on," Channing handed three orange lifejackets to the girls. "There's an island over there," he pointed a ways and they followed his finger. "If we can make it there in one piece, we'll be okay," he reassured, throwing a life jacket on for himself and began to help the crewmen get the lifeboat prepared.

Scarlett tried to judge how far away the little strip of land was, but with only the ship's flickering lights and the flashes of lightning the only things that could brighten her vision, she couldn't get a clear estimate. It didn't seem too far away, though. It would definitely be a long swim, but it was manageable. Maybe the rush of adrenaline would help maintain her stamina for a while.

A forceful wave rocked the ship, causing them to stagger and the water puddles were making them lose traction on the deck. The ship violently tilted in the opposite direction and gravity forced Scarlett to lose her balance and collapse. The ship slanted even more and she felt herself begin to slide across the metal deck. She screamed and tried to reach for the hand closest to her, but gravity had taken control too quickly and Scarlett had slipped through the bars of the railing, plunging deep into the ocean.

"Scarlett! SCARLETT!" Zoey yelled, not caring that her drenched blonde hair was sticking to her face. She clutched onto Cassandra, whom was frozen in place from shock. Zoey became hysterical. "Oh no! Oh God! Oh—" Zoey was cut off by the ship abruptly hitting a reef, making her, Cassandra, Channing, and the rest of the crew in the lifeboat plummet into the water as well with high-pitched screams.

Scarlett hit the water like a sack of bricks. She opened her eyes and the salt burned them like a branding iron. The sea was unforgiving. Waves kept bringing her up and under. She surfaced and tried to search for Zoey. She could see people several hundred yards away, but they were too far to swim to in this storm. Scarlett called out for help, but thunder resonated through the air, completely blocking out her voice. She tried to swim through the choppy waters to get to someone or something, but the waves kept submerging her. Water filled her nose, mouth, and eyes. She grasped her lifejacket tightly and stopped her writhing, realizing that the waves were going towards the island. She let out a cry of relief. All of them would reach the shore within a matter of time.

Once she felt her feet hit the sand bar, Scarlett got up and trudged through the water, taking great strides. Water poured from her body and she ripped off the lifejacket, feeling like a twenty pound weight had been removed. She halted and looked around with stinging eyes. She didn't see Zoey. Or Channing. Or anyone. All that was on the beach was old debris, shrubs bent over from the fierce wind, and aged buildings made out of cement. Where was everybody?

Scarlett cupped her hands to her mouth and called out, "Zoey?! Channing?! Cassandra?!" There was no reply to her calls. "Is anybody there?! Help!"

She walked up the beach and surveyed the area, her eyes moving back and forth. She couldn't believe that there was not a single person out here other than herself. What if something happened to everybody in the water? What if they all drowned? Or sharks got them? Scarlett shivered in the rain. Somebody had to have made it. They must have. But she was exhausted, wet, and desperate to find some shelter from the all-powerful rain. Maybe she could search for people in the morning or, at least, when the rain stopped. She went into one of the vacant buildings that still had a roof and laid on the ground, smoothing her hair away from her face and trying to gain control of her trembling. She finally had a chance to pause and take everything in.

 _I'm on an island, on an island in the middle of nowhere. Oh, fuck! What am I gonna do?!_

 _No, don't panic. You're alive and you're fine. No body parts are broken. You're gonna rest here for a while and then you're gonna to go look for everyone else in the morning._

She nodded to herself and closed her eyes. Everything would be better in the morning. For now, she needed to sleep. Sleep…yes, sleep was good. And it overtook her within a matter of seconds.

* * *

She was rocking back and forth as if she were still floating in the water. Scarlett opened her eyes to see that it was still dark. The rain had ceased and the grass was shiny with water. Wait…grass?! She turned her head to the side and also saw trees. Trees?! Where the hell was she?! Dropping her head downward, she saw a pair of feet shuffling directly below her and her face felt warm, almost like all of her blood had gone into it. Was she being carried? Had someone finally found her? She turned her head and moaned softly and patted the person's back.

"Hey, is she awake?" a man's voice asked. Scarlett then saw another pair of feet appear and brought her gaze upward to see a rugged-looking man with overgrown hair and a grizzly beard, dressed in a rain jacket, dirty pants, and dingy boots following close by. He also possessed a bow, a quiver on his back, and a torch in his hand for light. He leaned in and Scarlett scrunched up her eyes from the bright light and heat of the torch in her face.

"Yeah. She's up," he told the other man while staring at her. Scarlett opened her mouth to ask where the rest of the crew was, but he didn't let her get a word out. "Don't worry," he told her in a friendly tone, shaking his head, "You're fine. We're just bringing you back to the rest of the people from your ship. They're further inland."

Scarlett nodded her head and relaxed. She was alright. She and everybody else were okay. That's all that mattered. But who were these guys? She didn't recognize them in the slightest. Had they happened to be on the ship and she had just never seen them before? She began to think. The guy had said "we're bringing you back to the rest of the people from _your_ ship"; not _the_ ship, _your_ ship. That meant he wasn't on the _Commendation_. Then…where did he come from?

"Who…are you?" she moaned. It felt like effort to even get the words out. The man with the bow smiled.

"You'll see."

* * *

The island's terrain was very mountainous. They had to climb uphill and Scarlett didn't know how the two men didn't get tired after walking for so long, especially the person carrying her; not that she weighed that much. She hadn't been in a talkative mood and the men didn't exchange words with each other either, so it was silent the entire way.

"We're nearly there," the nameless person wielding the torch spoke up after what seemed like an eternity.

Scarlett began to see a cobblestone trail in the earth and small wooden houses appear every now and again like they were once part of a village, but they looked to be decades old; maybe even a century. Most of the wood was rotted off and some shacks didn't even have roofs. Scarlett saw the light from a few torches set in sconces before she was dropped to the ground; rather roughly, she would add. Before she could get back on her feet, one of them forced her hands behind her back. What the hell was he doing? Scarlett then felt rope beginning to secure her wrists tightly together.

"H-Hey, what're you—"

"Shhh!" he told her and pushed her shoulders down so that she would be on her knees. Scarlett stared down into the grass in shock. These people weren't trying to save her. They were capturing her. But why? Why would they do this? She didn't have anything they'd want. She just needed to get some help and find her people.

" _Scarlett_!" a voice hissed at her. This one sounded familiar. " _Scarlett_!"

Scarlett whipped her head and was overjoyed to see Zoey with her wet pajama shorts and tank top clinging to her body. Channing was also there and several other crew members from the ship. It was apparent that not many had survived and the ones that did looked disheveled and chilled to the bone in their damp clothes. All of their hands were bound as well. She moved closer to them using her knees, mud sloshing under her. Maybe they had an idea of what was happening.

"Oh, thank God, you're alive!" she whispered, resting on her heels. "Are you okay? What's going on here? Who're these people?"

"I don't know," answered Channing in a quiet voice, "but they weren't on the _Commendation_. It looks like they've been living here for a while. I've been overhearing them talking about recruitment or somethin—"

"Hey! Pipe down over there!" an islander commanded. It was then that Scarlett noticed that there were multiple men stationed in various positions around them. All of them looked pretty rough. Maybe they really were living out here. There was dirt on their clothes and nearly all of them were in a serious need of a shower, shave, and a haircut.

"Why are they doing this? We didn't do anything wrong," Zoey whispered, giving a wary glance to the man that shouted at them. Scarlett could tell her friend was trying to keep her nerves under control.

"I don't know, but they don't seem to be the friendly type. Just stay calm. Everything'll be fine. I'll try to talk to th—"

"Hey!" the same islander who had shushed them came stomping over. "I said 'pipe down'!"

"Okay, okay. We'll stop. Sheesh…" Channing dismissed in an annoyed tone.

The islander pulled out a pistol and pointed it into his face. Scarlett felt her heart stop. Everything seemed to stop.

"You think I'm kiddin'?" the man asked. "I'll blow your brains out right here. Now, shut up!"

Channing froze and immediately closed his mouth. This man was serious and there was no doubt that he was bluffing. He had that fiery look in his eyes.

Scarlett vigilantly looked around the camp and noticed one of the natives watching her. There was the faintest hint of a grin on his face. And it wasn't a friendly one.

All of the hostages suddenly went quiet as one tall, large man walked towards them threateningly with a pistol in his hand. He had dark hair with a short beard to match and sported a faded leather jacket layered over a dark, worn tunic. The leather made him look superior to his companions. He gave an order that Scarlett didn't understand and suddenly all of the girls of the group were separated from the men of the _Commendation_.

Scarlett heard a familiar voice shout, "Hey, get your freakin' hands off me!" It was Chrissy! She resisted the man trying to move her and elbowed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain and two more people came to take his place, one grasping her brown hair to make her stand and the other forcing her to move.

"Don't hurt her!" another feminine voice shrieked. It was Amy. Scarlett's eyes frantically searched the group for Cassandra, but she was nowhere to be found. Maybe she hadn't survive the wreck. Amy stood up and rammed into the men while Channing joined in from the male group, turning the situation into a scuffle with even more islanders entering the fight.

"No! Please, stop it! Please!" Zoey screamed at the top of her lungs and got to her feet. Scarlett found that she couldn't move. It was like watching a bad car wreck. She couldn't look away, yet she couldn't do anything to stop it from happening or getting worse.

A gunshot pierced the air and everyone went silent.

"Quiet!" the tall man, who seemed to be the leader, ordered with his pistol pointed at the sky. "All of you, get back!" he told everyone in a thick accent, aiming his gun back and forth between the survivors as an islander grabbed each of them and pulled them back. He walked up to Chrissy, whom was now being held securely by two men. "You stay quiet," he commanded in a hostile tone, gesturing the gun at her. She gave him a vicious glare as he turned away.

"Bastard…" she muttered at his back.

The man automatically spun back around and struck her hard across the face. The smack even made Scarlett wince.

"Quiet…" he pointed a finger at her. His patience was running short. The dark-haired man looked down the line to count the number of remaining women and saw two blondes beside each other quivering with fear. Looking down even further, he saw another girl that wasn't being shadowed by a scavenger. She was the only one who hadn't spoken out or joined the brawl. He saw her quickly tear her gaze from his and bow her head, closing her eyes.

Scarlett heard footsteps coming closer. They were loud and deep. She was shaking. She didn't want to get slapped too. His feet stopped right in front of her. Oh, God, what was he going to do?

He leaned down close to her and scornfully questioned, "Not going to fight?"

Scarlett slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. His gaze pierced hers, making her feel completely open and vulnerable. There was no hiding from him. She was about to cry, but forced herself to open her mouth enough to let out two shaky words.

"I…I-I'm scared."

He seized her jaw and made her stand up. She barely reached his shoulders in height.

"You're right to be scared. Maybe you should teach your friends some of your discipline," he jerked her head to the side to face the people of the _Commendation_. Their expressions were filled with terror. Scarlett locked eyes with Zoey and saw tears gathering in her eyes. The man forced Scarlett to look back at him again.

"You're not like them, though," he purred so softly that only she could hear him. "You know how to behave. Maybe you can come with me," he suggested, caressing her cheek.

Scarlett did everything not to whimper and kept her eyes glued to his chest. He was really scaring her. And his sick little touch seemed worse than any type of slap across the face. Thankfully, Channing came to her aid and tried to distract him.

"Hey, 'scuse me, but is there some place that we can call for—" He was kicked in the back by a native. It didn't look like he was going to be able to reason with these guys.

"So, we're sending these to Father Mathias, right?" one of the inhabitants asked his leader, nodding towards the girls.

"All of them. Except this one," he turned Scarlett's face to the man like she was a prize he'd won. Some of the men looked at each other, puzzled.

"What?"

"Where's she gonna go if we don't bring her?" the one restraining Zoey asked.

"With me," he ran his thumb across Scarlett's lips and she tore her face away. This was too disturbing. Whatever he was planning, she didn't want to have any part of it. She just wanted him to let her go.

"What?! Are you crazy?! You can't keep her, Vladimir! She goes to Mathias!" the man yelled back at him.

This "Vladimir" threw Scarlett into the dirt and began stomping towards him like a parent who's just been sassed by their own child. Zoey whimpered and ducked down as far as she could, now caught between the two men. The leader yelled at him in a foreign language again, which could have been Russian since his name was "Vladimir", but she wasn't a hundred percent sure. Scarlett looked straight at Channing, pleading for any type of instruction. What was she supposed to do since the leader obviously had some creepy type of affection for her?

Channing gave her a nod and gestured towards Vladimir with his head and mouthed a sentence to her. What was he saying?

Channing repeated the sentence. She understood one word: help. He nodded towards Vladimir again. Then, he made a kissy face.

"Keep still, dammit!" the man behind him kicked him in the back.

Under any other circumstances, Scarlett would've laughed out loud. Channing was insane; out of his mind! Her teacher was telling her to flirt with this man, this thug, to get him to help them. She had never done anything like that before. It wasn't in her nature. That was more of Zoey's job.

 _This is crazy!_ _I can't do this! I'd be flirting with a criminal for God's sake!_

 _You need to help your people, though. You're trapped on an island with hostile men and you might be the only one that can establish some kind of middle ground between these two groups._

The leader ended his rant with a punch to the man's face and the man covered his bloody nose, but still managed to keep Zoey restrained with one hand. Giving Channing a petrified look, Scarlett picked herself up and slowly approached the leader. She felt like she was in a dream, like she wasn't really doing this. Was all of this even real?

"Uh, e-excuse me," she timidly said to his back and he turned around, aggravation still fresh on his face. She practically cowered in fear. "Um, hi," a blush came across her face under his ogling stare, but she forced a small smile. "We r-really don't want any trouble…but, um, can you—no—do you…uhhh…" Scarlett's eyes drifted to the side. The other scavengers were gawking, some of them smirking. It unsettled her and her train of thought wavered.

The leader, Vladimir, regarded the woman in front of him with a questionable gaze. What was she doing, talking to him? Was she trying to get him to let her go? To let all of them go? Was she some kind of fool? Probably. She didn't know the rules around here, the way things were done. But her smile made him cock his head to the side in fascination. When was the last time a woman, a beautiful woman at that, actually _smiled_ at him? He couldn't remember. Definitely not since he had come to this island. It was peculiar. She was peculiar; so shy, so innocent-looking and she was doing her best to reason with someone like him, a complete brute. But something was making her lose her focus. What was it? He followed her eyes to the men watching her. Instantly, jealousy took over. She was talking to _him_ and _they_ were making her uneasy. He shouted at them to wipe the smirks off their ugly faces. Their faces fell and went back to being serious.

Scarlett looked back at Vladimir. She'd rather have her teeth pulled right now than try to talk with this man. Nevertheless, she tried once more.

"Do you think that you might have something that we can use to call for help? We wouldn't take much of your time and then we would be on our way. We wouldn't bother you ag—"

"Shhh," he put his finger over her lips. "No more talking."

"Stop wastin' time, Vladimir. We bringing all of these new ones to Mathias or what?" another man shot up. Vladimir again shouted something at him in a foreign language. The man angrily threw the crewmate he was holding to the ground and shouted back, "Don't get mad at me! We're just trying to do the job! Now, what're we doing with them?!"

Vladimir paused for a moment and then exhaled.

"Just take them to the palace. They'll be dead by morning anyway," he ordered with a grumble.

Scarlett's eyes widened in fear. _Dead?! They're gonna kill them?! Oh, God!_

"Dead?!" Connor shouted. Scarlett hadn't even realized he had been here this whole time. "What the hell are you talkin' about?! You can't—" His sentence was cut short by a gunshot to the head by Vladimir. Connor's body crashed to the ground with a pool of blood growing around his head. Zoey screamed. Scarlett's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe it. She closed her eyes tight and then opened them again. Connor was still lying motionless on the ground. That really happened. Her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. He was truly dead. Scarlett felt an overwhelming sense of fear. Connor was supposed to meet her for a date tomorrow night and he was going to make a shark tooth necklace for her. But now he's…gone. She had hardly known the guy, but she had considered him a friend. He could have been her future boyfriend, maybe even her future husband. But she would never get the chance to know now.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?!" Channing turned back to Vladimir. "He didn't do you a damn thing! Just let us go and we'll find our own damn way off the island!"

Vladimir narrowed his eyes at him. He gave a short command in Russian to the man holding Channing. The islander began to tie a gag around Channing's mouth, but Channing squirmed and struggled.

"Ugh! Be still, dammit!" Then, Channing bit the scavenger's hand. "Oh, y'know what?! You're not worth it!" The man positioned his pistol into Channing's back and pulled the trigger. Red debris spewed outwardly from his chest as if something had burst forth from it, like in the movie, _Alien_. The scavenger crudely let his body fall into the mud with a squelch.

"Oh, my God!" Scarlett cried. Channing's shirt began forming a blood spot that kept expanding. Dead. He was dead. The man who was going to take care of them and had said everything was going to be alright was dead. They were on their own now. How the hell were they going to get out of this without him?

"Anyone else wanna join him?" the killer questioned, waving his gun at the survivors. Only a few of them whimpered.

"Take those to the pit," Vladimir pointed to the male group and then gestured to the females, "And these to Mathias. Now!" Every survivor from the _Commendation_ was escorted away by an islander.

Why were they being separated? What was the "pit"? Who was this "Mathias" guy? Was he going to kill all of them? Scarlett heard Zoey getting dragged away along with Amy and Chrissy.

"Scarlett! Scarlett, don't let them…ahhh!" She was slapped in the face, a nasty red mark emerging on her cheek.

"C'mon!" the man holding her wrenched her forward and away.

Scarlett went to call out Zoey's name, but couldn't find her voice. She could only stare at her remaining friend getting dragged towards some unknown place. Who knew what these savages were going to do to her? Scarlett's stomach suddenly dropped at the touch of a hand seizing her upper arm and a scavenger began to lead her away to follow Zoey and the others. Vladimir snagged him by the hood of his jacket.

"Not this one."

"You were serious?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

" _I_ keep this one. You'll tell Mathias there were only three of them; this one was never here," Vladimir ordered, pointing a finger at the quivering girl. "Now, go. I won't be far behind. I have to do something first…" he trailed off, making a move to depart.

"But, Vladimir, you can't—"

" _Three_ women!" he halted with his hand wrapped around the girl's upper arm. "That's what you tell him! How many times do I have to say it?! Now, GO!"

"Aye, aye, captain," the man saluted him sarcastically and walked away. "Bastard…" he muttered under his breath.

"What'd you say?!" Vladimir yelled, his patience at its wit's end.

The man turned around in annoyance and replied in a cheerful tone, "I said 'I'll do your bidding, master'." He rolled his eyes and gave his leader a grand bow before departing again, leaving the young woman and tall man alone.

"Where're they going?" Scarlett squeaked. Vladimir's focus went back to her.

"Come with me."

"Where to?"

Vladimir began escorting her in the opposite direction.

"Where are we going? Where are they going?" she questioned, referring to her crew.

He didn't answer.

Where exactly was he taking her? More importantly, what was he going to do with her?

She suddenly had a stomach churning thought. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way the other men looked at her…

He was going to…to…Oh, God. No, no, no! Not that! She couldn't go through that. She could hardly look at the man to begin with. She shouldn't have listened to Channing. She knew it wasn't her teacher's intention to get her into this mess, but the situation was about to go from bad to worse. And the fact that she was dressed rather provocatively in a revealing tank top didn't help the situation at all. She cursed herself for not changing clothes before falling asleep. She couldn't do something like this. She needed to run, to get as far away as possible! She would have to slip away when he would least expect it, otherwise…well, she'd rather not think about the other possible outcomes.

They were going up a worn cobblestone path and Scarlett's hands were clammy. She needed to do this. She had to escape. It was a big risk and possibly a death wish, but there was no way she could stay with this man.

Wincing from anticipation, she suddenly slipped from his grasp and took off in the opposite direction, her heart pounding so hard that it hurt.

"Get back here!" she heard him yell. She didn't dare look behind her. She ran and ran with no intention of stopping. But her eyes overlooked a section of the stairs that were missing and she felt herself unexpectedly falling forwards. She rolled down the steps, bashing her knee and collarbone in the process, and finally came to a stop on flat, level ground. She went to get up, but her knee was throbbing and screaming at her for forcing too much weight on it. She flinched when she heard a presence behind her and yelped when Vladimir seized her shoulder and spun her around to face him. He was not happy.

Vladimir raised his hand to slap her round the face and Scarlett cowered in fear, ready for pain. Then a shrill, ear-piercing scream sounded through the forest, making him pause and turn his head. The pop of a gunshot followed it.

That was one of the girls. Scarlett was secretly glad Vladimir had stopped mid-slap, but that gunshot meant that one of the girls was dead. Zoey, Chrissy, or Amy; one of them was dead and lying on the ground with a bullet in their body. She prayed to God it wasn't Zoey. It wasn't that she disliked Chrissy or Amy; she hardly knew anything about them, aside from taking a few courses together at school. But Scarlett didn't want any of them to suffer, let alone to be gone for forever. She kept her arms stiff at her sides while there were only the distant sounds of crackling fire, buzzing insects, and men's yelling to fill the silence between her and the intimidating man before her.

Vladimir peered down at the girl in front of him, whom was breathing heavily and wore frightened eyes. She looked precious when she was terrified. But that was no ticket to get out of a punishment. She had ran from him. Why did the new ones always have to run? It was useless. He or the other men would end up finding them eventually. There were only so many places to hide on an island.

He got close to her again, this time putting his face inches from hers. She smelled…clean. She didn't reek of the usual blood, piss, or sweat that he was accustomed to. He decided to let her off with a warning.

"If you run again, that's you," Vladimir pointed in the direction the shooting came from. "Don't run." She gave him a frantic nod. Oh God, he could just do it now.

No, not here. Not now. He needed self-control. He had to make sure she was completely out of sight first. And then he would join the rest of the scavengers that were bringing the other women to Mathias to make sure that no one squealed on him. For now, he would just have to suppress his feelings. He could wait.

Meanwhile, Scarlett stood there, feeling like a vulnerable lamb in front of the big, bad wolf. She couldn't run now. And she didn't want to get on his bad side after seeing what had happened to Chrissy and Connor. She felt a serious need to ask for forgiveness so that he wouldn't be furious with her.

"I'm sorry," she quickly whispered, bowing her head. He grunted in reply. Scarlett assumed that meant he accepted her apology. He seized her arm and continued to drag her along the path once more.

They soon came to an old wooden hut with the only thing resembling a door was a shabby tarp nailed to the frame of the doorway. There was a table that had a red candle on it already lit and one chair to sit in. Scarlett froze when she saw a mattress on the floor covered with several animal pelts, an unkempt, yellow-stained white sheet, and a dingy pillow. Oh, God, was this where he was going to do it?!

Vladimir impatiently pushed Scarlett into the chair and tied her to it with some rope that had lain discarded on the floor. It was then she noticed that there were red stains on the wooden floorboards near the doorway. Her eyes became twice their original size. Was that blood? It looked like something had been dragged out of here.

 _Oh, shit_ , she thought, _have other people been in here too?!_ _What the fuck has this man been doing in here?! Torturing people?!_

Vladimir then got uncomfortably close to her again. Scarlett backed as far away as she could in her seat. The putrid smell of sweat and cigarette smoke entered her nose.

"Stay. Right. Here. I'll be back," he caressed her cheek one more time before he walked out the shack, leaving her alone. She looked at her surroundings, trying to see if there was anything she could use to cut the rope that bound her hands and to, perhaps, stab him with when he came back; a piece of glass, a nail, a wooden stake, anything. But there was nothing around her. The place was bare of sharp objects. She could try to take the candle and light her restraints on fire…which would result in second or third degree burns; not a good thing in a survival situation.

Scarlett peered up at the dark ceiling and heaved a sigh in attempt to keep her nerves in check. When was he going to come back? And what was he going to do to her whenever he did get back? This wasn't supposed to happen. Usually, stories about shipwrecks or kidnappings were heard on the news, but it wasn't supposed to happen to everyday, ordinary people who never had anything seriously go wrong in their lives. She didn't know what to do in this type of scenario. If this were a movie, she would be yelling at herself on the screen: "Don't just sit there! Find something and get out of there, you idiot!" But nobody was there to talk her through this. That's what scared her the most: the fact that she was alone. Alone and powerless. But maybe she'd find some way to escape. There just had to be a way. There always was. And she'd be damned if she didn't try to find it.


	5. Day 2: After Midnight

**A/N:** **I want to thank Bolondka and Howling2themoon for reviewing last chapter! And also The Hobbit Diet for the proofreading this. I also want to thank those that are reading, but are too shy/lazy to review. I know you're out there... okay, enough being creepy. It wasn't until recently that I started leaving reviews for other people's stories. I'm just glad people are reading and I very much appreciate it. If there are any typos or mistakes, please let me know so that I can fix them.**

 **Warning : This chapter contains explicit sexual content that is non-consensual. You have been warned.**

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Scarlett sat there, alone with her thoughts, for what felt like hours. Her legs rapidly bounced up and down as she was having trouble keeping a lid on her racing thoughts. From what she could see in-between the panels of the shack, it was still dark outside, so it must have been late at night or really early in the morning. How long has she been sitting here? Minutes? Hours? Was anybody ever going to come get her?

Just then, she heard faint murmuring and immediately stopped fiddling with her restraints. She sat completely still, craning her neck towards the wall to hear anything she could. She didn't even want to breathe for fear that she would be too loud.

"…certain one of these girls is the key. I can feel it. It was a shame that one of them was killed, though. You know I don't like that."

"She put up a fight while on her way to you." Scarlett felt her stomach drop at that voice. _He_ was back. "You know we wouldn't have killed her otherwise."

"And the men? How many were killed?"

"Two. One appeared to be their leader…"

 _Channing_ , Scarlett thought. The notion of him being gone was like a stab to the heart.

"…The rest were sent to the pit."

"Good. Hopefully, we'll acquire more recruits out of this bunch. Our numbers have dwindled since the flood and the cholera."

"If they have any fight in them like those young ladies have, then they might have a chance."

"Vladimir…" the unidentified voice growled, almost as if in warning. "I know what you were thinking. I saw that glint in your eyes back at the palace. Don't think I didn't notice. You were having those urges again."

"I controlled them," Vladimir defended.

"And I commend you on that. You're improving. Keep disciplining yourself. Meditate at every sunrise and sunset. Hear her voice on the wind. Let her spirit guide your actions. Make her proud to be able to call you her disciple. Do this and she will reward you with your freedom." There was a pause. Scarlett could hear the blood pumping in her ears. The unknown man spoke again, seeming to change the topic after the awkward moment of silence. "What do you have in store for tomorrow?"

"The bridge. It needs reinforcements again."

A disgruntled sigh followed. "Yes. I could feel it sway as we walked across it. Fix that as quickly as you can. We don't need anyone going down the waterfall unintentionally."

Vladimir snorted, presumably at the imagery of someone falling to their death. "Any other requests?"

"Well, aren't you eager to please tonight? But no, not at the moment. Focus on the bridge for now. I'll let you know if I need something done. Now, go get some rest. You've been up since yesterday morning."

Scarlett heard heavy footsteps coming closer. Oh, God…he was coming for her. Why couldn't she make herself scream?!

"Oh, and Vladimir," the anonymous voice halted the large man's steps, making Scarlett feel a momentarily sense of relief. "Don't work too hard. The ceremony will be at dusk. You should come. You might learn something new."

"I… rather get the bridge fixed, Father. I'll work sunrise to sunset…as much light as she allows. And you know these mongrels. They need to be kept on their leashes."

Scarlett was surprised to hear the aggressive man fumbling around for words, as if trying to find some half-baked excuse to get out of attending some event.

"I'd like for you to be there, Vladimir." There was another pause. "I know it's difficult and you're impatient, but Himiko wants her freedom just as much as you do. I still have dreams about her, you know. She tells me that we'll find the key soon. Hopefully, now is that time. I can feel it. We're so close now. Do not give up hope."

 _Who the hell is Vladimir talking to? And what the hell are they talking about?_ Scarlett wondered _. Who's this "she" they keep mentioning? They almost make her sound like…a goddess. They meditate to her, are called her "disciples"; they probably even worship her and, in return, they could be granted some form of freedom from slavery or indentured servitude. And what was it that Vladimir was trying to avoid going to? Not like I'm going to ask him and he probably wouldn't tell me anyway, but it'd be good to know what's going on around here. Then, I could get out of here, find everybody, and figure out some way to call for help. There has to be a line to the outside. Maybe if I just—_

She was pulled out her thoughts as a presence approached.

Vladimir entered the hut and saw his treasure still restrained to the chair. Her eyes met his for a brief moment and a half smile made its way onto his lips before she quickly diverted her gaze. He was grateful that he got rid of his boss, the self-made priest, Mathias. When the man had said he wanted to take a walk with him, Vladimir grew anxious that some boot-licking peon had squealed on him about his dirty little deed and he was going to be punished. He didn't know what kind of punishment he would have received, being one of Mathias' lieutenants in the brotherhood and all, but it probably would have been much worse than a demotion. But the priest had only wanted to talk and get all religious on him as an excuse to reiterate everything he's been preaching for the millionth time, as if to keep him from straying off the "righteous" path. He rambled on, but Vladimir paid no attention, having his mind on something else entirely. Or, rather, _someone_ else.

The tall walked over to the young woman, calmly untied her from the chair, and then freed her hands. Scarlett gripped her seat so hard that her knuckles were paper white as he slid his hands up her arms and rested them on her shoulders. A shiver went through her. The man was invading her personal space. He was too close for her comfort.

Vladimir came around to face her and pulled her out of the chair by the forearm. He cupped her face in his large hands.

"You are…beautiful," he murmured huskily in his Russian accent as he backed her against the wall and lowered his face into her neck. "And it's been so long…" he began to glide his lips along her neckline up to her jaw.

Scarlett was scared stiff. She didn't know how to respond to these advances. She wanted to push him back, but it was like she had forgotten how to move. The man kept going up until he reached her lips and then was so bold as to kiss them full on.

 _No. No!_ Everything was screaming at her to get away. Far away. She tore her face from his and gasped for breath. She dared not to look at him, keeping her eyes glued to the floor, but Scarlett could still _feel_ Vladimir glaring daggers at her, like he was trying to burn a hole in her forehead for rejecting him.

Trembling, she broke down a little and sniveled, "I can't do this…"

Vladimir seemed to soften a bit. He took her face in his hands again and told her, "Yes, you can." It came out more as a command than encouragement. She shrunk back as far into the wall as she could, squirming in his grip. She shook her head, her nose becoming stuffy.

"No, I can't…" she whined. He slammed her shoulders into the wooden wall with a forceful shove.

"You _will_!" he growled threateningly. It made Scarlett want to cry even more. This was Evil staring her right in the face. Why was he doing this to her?!

"You will," he repeated and took a step back. "Now, come to me," he held out his hands to her. She hesitated, thinking her options over. It was either go to him or attempt to run. Life or death. Right here, right now. And she _had_ to make a decision. If she didn't, he was going to choose _for_ her.

 _I can't. I can't do this. It's so wrong. He wants…me. He wants to..._ She couldn't even say the word in her mind because it made her feel sick. He was going to defile her, violate her; he was going to take a piece of her that she could never get back. And it was either that or she would never live to see another day, never to see anybody—her friends, her family—ever again. She didn't want to die right here in an old shack on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. There had been so much that she wanted to do with her life: have a job, get married, have kids, retire, and then die because of old age. She didn't want to die tonight, not at twenty years old.

 _You need to go to him, Scarlett. Don't make him angry._

 _Oh, fuck…_

 _Do you want to die?!_

Scarlett grit her teeth at that authoritative voice in her head and took timid steps forward, scraping her fingernails against her palms. No amount of preparation would have ever prepared her for what she was submitting to.

Vladimir smiled when she reached him. "Good," he praised. "See? Not hard. Now, can we try again?" he asked, stroking her hair back. Scarlett wanted to shake her head back and forth like a rabid dog.

 _No, we cannot try again, pervert!_

He stuck a finger under her chin and tilted it upwards so that she was forced to look at him. When she didn't flinch away, that gave him the incentive to lower his head and put his lips back onto hers. Scarlett didn't respond to it. It felt like a snake was trying to kiss her, licking her lips with its tongue and trying to pry her mouth open to gain access. Vladimir grabbed Scarlett between her legs, surprising her.

"Kiss me…" he breathed. Scarlett turned her head from him, refusing, but he gripped her face by the jaw and forced her to kiss him. And he was not gentle. When he pulled his mouth from hers, he whispered along her neck, "I've been thinking of you. You're more beautiful than I remember."

Tremors ran through Scarlett as she felt his breath on her neck, giving her severe goosebumps throughout her entire body. This was the stuff that nightmares were made of. She wished she could just make herself wake up from this one and it would all be over. Scarlett shut her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth hard, fighting the urge to throw him off again as he ran his mouth down her neck.

He quickly took the hem of her tank top and slipped the entire garment from her torso in one swift motion. Scarlett gasped and went to cover herself, but was too slow as he went at her again. Wrenching her around to face the wall, he fiddled with the clasp of her bra and her eyes got even wider.

 _Oh, dear God, he…he's doing this. Oh, God, get me out of this. Help me! Please, help me!_

Once he got the undergarment loose, he threw it to the floor and turned her back around to face him. He wore the hungriest look that Scarlett has ever seen on a person. It was unnerving, like he would devour her. She bet even the most confident woman in the world would have been terrified of the stare he possessed, like he was a predator about to pounce the easiest prey. She backed away from him with her arms covering her chest, deeply petrified of the expression in his eyes, but the damned wall behind her stopped her from retreating any further. He came closer to her, his steps intimidating, like those of a menacing villain in a horror movie who had his victim in the crosshairs. He reached for her dark hair cascading down her breasts. Zoey had styled it for her all those hours ago, but it had come undone from the saltwater, rain, wind, and dirt. And her makeup was probably smeared and worn off. She couldn't have been that attractive, so what did this man see in her?!

Vladimir touched her locks, almost tentatively.

"Long hair…" he purred while gliding his fingers through her tresses. He ran his hand along her scalp, making her wince with uncertainty, and lifted a portion of her hair. Then, he released it, watching the strands float down ever so slowly. "…I like it." He repeated the procedure and started speaking to her in what she assumed was Russian. A part of her wished that she could understand him, but maybe it was better that she remained ignorant. Whatever he was saying couldn't have been good.

He reached for the front of his coat and Scarlett felt nauseous watching him take it off along with the sleeveless shirts that were layered underneath. He was well-built, she'd give him that, but she did not expect to see tattoos. His upper body was covered in them. Her eyes first went to the giant one across his chest. It looked to be an altar of some sorts. Scarlett also saw another one below that. It was of a cross. Perhaps he had been a Christian at one point? Maybe she could somehow convince him that what he was doing was against God, that it was a major sin; anything to get him to stop.

He slapped both of his hands against her rear and she flinched, involuntarily falling into his chest. He lifted her off of the floor, using the wall to pin her, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"You have pretty friends," he hissed as he began petting her breasts gently, following their natural curvature. "I looked, but couldn't touch. But here, I can do _all_ I want to you," he cupped her right breast firmly in his hand and she gulped. He was definitely too close now. He was touching her in intimate places and she felt extremely vulnerable. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. She wanted him to stop. Scarlett looked at his head and wondered how much force it would take to wring his neck in the wrong direction. She was eye-level with him and she could attempt it, but pulling a stunt like that would surely get her killed and she wasn't sure if she was strong or fast enough to do it. But maybe she could jab him in the eyes or…

Her eyes glanced off to the side and, in the dim candlelight, saw an outline of what looked to be a pistol in the pocket of his coat. There it was: her holy grail! It was a sign! God was definitely trying to help her out now.

 _Oh, if I could just get to that…_

Vladimir kissed Scarlett's ear and groped her more, exciting himself further. Scarlett stared at the pistol, wondering how the hell she was going to get to it before Vladimir went any further. He was all over her. She felt too exposed to the outside world and feeling his body against hers only made her even more nauseous. She didn't think the feeling could get any worse until she sensed something hard pressing against her inner thigh. She really thought that she was going to throw up on him now.

 _What the hell am I even doing? What in the fucking hell am I doing?! This is sick! I need to get to that fucking gun before this goes any—_

He pinched her too hard, causing her to cringe.

"You like that, baby?"

She wanted to say something in protest, but her intention was cut off by Vladimir practically sticking his tongue down her throat. She could taste salt and cigarette smoke on him. He bit down hard on her lip and a burst of metallic flavor exploded in her mouth, tasting like a copper penny on her tongue. She knew that flavor, like when the dentist flosses her teeth too roughly. Vladimir also detected it and sucked on her lip.

He pulled back from the kiss, making an audible smacking sound, and whispered, "You're sweet…"

 _Oh, gross. What if he's a cannibal?_ Panic surged through her at that thought before he moved away from the wall and slammed her onto the table. Jagged splinters pierced her back and she gasped.

"I want you, baby. I want you now…" he breathed and hastily grabbed at her pants. Scarlett's eyes got wide. He was really going to do this to her. It was really happening and he showed no signs of stopping. She needed to get out of here right this instant; to kick him in the face, grab the gun, shoot him, and run for the hills.

Vladimir grabbed the hem of her pants at her ankles and she rolled off the table in haste, landing hard on her shoulder. Only in her underwear now, she headed for the pistol and grabbed his leather coat. Her hand dove into the pocket and touched something cold and hard, but she suddenly felt arms around her and she screamed and writhed about, trying to grasp the grip of the firearm, but Vladimir tore her away from the article of clothing and threw her back onto the table. His temper flared and he cursed at her in Russian, slamming his fist down on the wooden desk. Scarlett recoiled and covered her face in fear, being on the verge of tears. She had been so close, so close to getting that gun and ending this whole nightmare, but he ruined it!

He reached for her underwear, but Scarlett moved further back and pushed his hand away. Frustrated, he snatched her ankle and slid her entire body closer to him. Scarlett whimpered when he stripped off her panties and she immediately closed her legs off to him, hyperventilating at this point. She felt dizzy. She had never gone this far with any man before. She and her old boyfriend, Justin, would fool around sometimes, but it had never gotten to this extent. She had wanted her first time to be special and mean something. And Justin had respected her wishes, though he was a bit reluctant about it. But the man in front of her didn't give a damn about her feelings. He didn't care that he was traumatizing her and that she was scared out of her mind.

"Wait, wait! Please! Please, I've never—" Scarlett pleaded, holding out a hand in front of her in one last attempt to stop him. "Wait," she breathed, "do you believe in God? He wouldn't want—" He gave her the cruelest slap across the face. Scarlett had never been hit in such a way all of her life.

"Do not speak that shit Name to me, girl!" he spat. "He's done nothing for us!" Vladimir climbed on top of her, crushing her small frame in the process, and Scarlett felt as though she was about to pass out.

"Please, please don't…" Scarlett began to sob, not knowing what else to do at this point. "I don't want to. I don't wanna…" Her voice pleaded for mercy, for a speck of pity in his black heart. He couldn't be this cruel, could he? She peered up at him, unclothed and helpless, with tearful eyes. "Please…"

Vladimir ripped through her like a knife, like an agonizing, white-hot stab. Scarlett screamed out in pain, but he quickly covered her mouth with his hand. She couldn't breathe.

"HUSH!" he ordered, his voice seeming to echo in the shack. Scarlett immediately ceased her cries. The pain was close to unbearable. Vladimir got an inch from her face. "God is dead. He cannot save us. He cannot save you. So, just…" he better situated himself, "…enjoy it," he exhaled with contentment. He began planting kisses from her ear down to her breasts at a painfully slow rate, taking his sweet time.

Scarlett struggled at his actions. She didn't want to believe what he had said. Someone, something had to stop this. She tilted her head as far back as she could so that she had an upside down view of the doorway and prayed and prayed for someone to come barging in to stop the man on top of her. Moments passed and she kept blinking her eyes, hoping someone would show up every time she opened them. But no one came. She was stuck here. Alone. Pinned down and violated.

Vladimir's movements became increasingly faster and his groans heavier. Scarlett's breath caught in her throat with every push. It felt like repeated stabs to her insides. She wanted him to stop. She wanted him off of her, but he had to be, at least, a hundred more pounds. She pushed on his broad shoulders, anything to make him stop, but it was like trying to move an enormous boulder. He wasn't going anywhere. She was trapped beneath him and he wasn't going to let her go. And no one was coming to save her.

All of a sudden, Vladimir's body seized up for what seemed like several long seconds and Scarlett swore that time had frozen. It must have been his peak because what followed immediately was a series of very rapid and spasmodic thrusts. Scarlett stiffened as it began to hurt even more, which hardly seemed possible. She thought of the saying where people weren't supposed to tense up whenever they were in a car accident because they would be extremely sore after that, but how could they not brace for the impact? It was natural to tense up when someone knew that they were about to go through extreme pain. Then, it wouldn't hurt as bad. This was more or less the same thing: a bad car wreck. But it would be over soon.

 _The pain will stop_ , she told herself, moisture leaking from her eyes. _Just hold on a few more moments…_

Once his body had expended itself, Vladimir breathed out and collapsed right on top of Scarlett, pressing the wind out of her chest. It was over. It happened _…_ Oh God, it actually happened. She felt disgusting, sodden with shame and his filth. She wished she could just walk out of here, go home, and take a shower. She would scrub her skin clean until it was raw and bleeding. Then, she would curl up in her bed with the covers concealing her from the world and never leave. But she couldn't. She couldn't just get up and walk away from the situation. She felt the world beginning to close in on her. She couldn't escape this place, couldn't escape what just happened to her. She couldn't go back and undo time or just shrug it off. She was scarred for life.

Vladimir lifted himself off of her and Scarlett felt the warmth of his body leave, not realizing it was so cold without him. He zipped up his pants and placed one arm around her torso and the other under her legs to lift her into his arms. She closed her eyes and didn't resist. Was there anything more that he could do to her now that would damage her further? He gently placed her on the mattress and Scarlett felt the hair fibers of the animal pelts on her back. They felt much better than the hard, wooden table. Vladimir laid down beside her and pulled the grimy sheet up to cover themselves. Scarlett wondered when was the last time he had washed it. It had the acrid odor of stale sweat and stains from only God-knew-what. She violently shivered, feeling like she was lying in a pit of grime and muck. He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around her. She was too in shock to even spare him a glance. He grunted to get her attention. Scarlett whipped her head to the side, her eyes and heartbeat frantic. What did he want now?

"Sleep," he dragged his fingers down her face to close her eyelids. Scarlett kept them closed once he removed his hand. She was tired, but not enough to go to sleep. She could never sleep again. She was too shaken up.

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Once she heard his breathing become steady, Scarlett opened her eyes. Vladimir was asleep. She could try to leave now; just undo his arm from around her and tip-toe out. She wouldn't make a sound.

She tried to merge out of his grasp just a little, but he unconsciously sighed and clutched her tighter, causing a serious lurch in her stomach. Maybe that's why he was holding onto her: so she couldn't leave him. She was going to be imprisoned here for forever, doomed to be tortured and raped for the rest of her life.

She closed her eyes and warm tears slid down her cheeks. She couldn't survive another night like tonight. How could she? How could anyone? She thought about the TV shows where people retell their accounts of survival from natural disaster, disease, or assault. The viewer would usually feel sorry for them, but they had never experienced the trauma the victims had. No one else could truly know of their pain. But now, Scarlett knew. She had become one of those victims. On this day, the ninth of June of the year 2013, she had learned what being shipwrecked in an unknown place felt like; what being assaulted and seeing her friends die right in front of her felt like; what being raped felt like. And it was hell. There was no other way to describe it. She was living in a nightmare, a completely immersive nightmare. And there appeared to be no end of it in sight, no waking from it. How was she going to make it through this? And after what she just experienced, would she even want to try?


	6. Day 2: Sunrise

**A/N: Thanks to The Hobbit Diet for improving this chapter. You're a real gem! This has been proofread, but if there are any mistakes, please let me know and I'll fix them.**

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Scarlett laid there for the remainder of the night, just staring up at the dark ceiling. She could never fall asleep beside Vladimir. How could she? How could she let herself drift off into a vulnerable state with this monster lying right beside her? And, to top it off, he was a snorer. Scarlett noticed a particular pattern to it: it would start off as deep breathing, progress to a light snore, get louder, louder, climax, cease, and then revert back to the light snore. It reminded her of Justin whenever he would fall asleep. He said he'd never snored, but Scarlett always begged to differ and often made fun of him for it. She wondered if Connor used to snore and her gut tightened. She'd rather not think about him and the fact that he was gone, so her mind shifted to Zoey. Was she okay? Was she going through some kind of trauma at this very moment? Was it comparable to Scarlett's ordeal, captured and raped? Or was she the one that was shot last night after those men had taken her? What about the others, like Amy and Chrissy and the rest of the crew? That suffocating feeling she had when she watched her dad depart from the _Commendation_ began to bubble up again. She felt like a little girl wanting her dad to come and rescue her, but he couldn't. She was alone out here, alone with a crazy person, whom probably wouldn't give a second thought to slitting her throat. She turned her head to look upon the sleeping man, but quickly turned back to stare at the ceiling, as though she had been stung by a wasp. She was afraid his eyes would open at any second and she would be subjected to more torture.

Not long after the birds began to chirp outside, Scarlett heard a deep breath and saw the man prop himself up on his elbow in her peripheral vision. He dragged a hand over his face to get the sleep out of his eyes before casting a glance her way, a look of satisfaction settling on his features. Her stomach did a somersault.

"Sleep well?" he asked cheekily, knowing full well she didn't. Her face crumpled up and she turned away from him. Vladimir stared at her backside for a moment. There were thin, red, vertical stripes going up and down it. He smiled, knowing that he was the cause of them. For him, last night had been a release, a break from his usual life; a chance to let his mind escape and to focus on more pleasant things. It had been nice. His eyes went to the incoming sunlight poking through the wooden panels of the hut and he knew that he would have to get to work soon. And that meant he would have to leave the girl here. Alone. Was she going to try to run? Most likely. The amount of things that she had experienced last night was enough to give anyone whiplash, but her spirit was not yet broken. She still had willpower, the drive to flee; but she would crack soon. Once she learned her place around here, she would give in willingly and then there would be no need to be distrustful of her anymore. All he needed was time. But for now, he couldn't keep his eyes on her 24/7. And he wasn't about to ask any of the other men to watch her. That was just asking for trouble. There was only one resort: restrain her.

Vladimir rose and got dressed. He fixed the collar of his coat, smoothed his hair back to get rid of its bed-head style, and retrieved the rope that had bound the girl's hands the night before. He pulled her halfway off of the mattress, took her dainty wrist, and tied it to the table leg with a secure knot. She didn't even fight him in the process. When he was finished, he stooped down and caressed her face.

"I'll be back for you later." She tore away with closed eyes, not wanting anything more to do with him. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. Maybe she'd have a better attitude when he came back later. He grunted and walked out of the hut.

Scarlett opened one eye to see him exit and leaned against the table leg. Now that she was alone, she could finally let go of everything—the fear, the pain, the humiliation, the sadness—and break out into those gut-wrenching sobs that she had been dreaming of for the past few hours. And Vladimir wasn't here to smack the crap out of her for doing so. She hated him. He had scarred her for life, stolen her innocence, and didn't even give a fucking damn about any of it! Cries escaped her lips. All she could do was let the tears fall freely and wept until her eyes were red and puffy.

She was the one that had gotten herself into this mess. It was all her fault. Channing had told her to flirt, yes, but she agreed to it and the situation had gone too far. And now, no one could help her; not Zoey, not Channing, Connor, her mother, nor her father. She was all alone. Scarlett hugged the table leg, staring into nothing. She had bruises all over her body, her hair was matted, and she felt like a complete train wreck. There was soreness in her back, her stomach, arms, legs, and in the more intimate places that felt unmentionable at the moment.

Not wanting to be naked any longer, she reached for her clothes, but was stopped by the rope. She sighed in frustration, knowing she was going to have to work for it. She tugged her wrist towards her, hoping that maybe Vladimir tied a faulty knot and she could get free. But luck was not on her side. It was extremely well done. Extending her leg, she could practically hear her muscles creak and moan as she grabbed her clothes using her toes and dragged them across the floor. With her free hand, she managed to put on her underwear, pants, and boots. The bra and tank top, however, were going to be a problem.

She stared at the rope, trying to study the anatomy of the knot. She pulled at it, trying to loosen it, but ended up bending a fingernail backwards and cursed out loud. Repeatedly tugging on the rope proved to be fruitless as well and only resulted in a chafed wrist. Perhaps she was approaching this at the wrong angle. The rope was strong and so was the knot, but what about the table? It looked pretty old. Scarlett wondered how it didn't give out last night with the two of them on top of it. She turned onto her side and placed both feet on the table leg, one under the knot and the other above it. She pushed with her feet and pulled with her wrist, gritting her teeth. The table leg was starting to bend under the pressure, but Scarlett needed to stop for a moment. She exhaled and rubbed her tender wrist ensnared in the rope. Maybe this needed to be accomplished in short bursts. She could put more force behind a tug in a shorter amount of time than just pulling on it without ceasing. She propped her feet on the wooden leg again and swiftly pulled her hand towards her while pushing against the table with her boots.

Nothing. She tried again.

Still, nothing. Scarlett grabbed the bottom of the table leg in desperation to break off at least a portion of it, but was unsuccessful.

Aggravated, she flipped the table onto its side. Standing up, she grasped the bottom of the table leg with her free hand and placed her boot on the other side of the knot. She forced her foot downward and even jumped off the ground to use all of her body weight for additional force. Grunting, she pushed with her foot over and over until something finally snapped, almost sending her face first into the floor. She brought up her inflamed wrist and half the table leg was hanging off the rope.

 _Yes!_ Scarlett put on the rest of her clothes and leaned against the wall. Since she was free, she could run now.

 _Why not run? I could be free of this sicko._

 _And go where? You would get caught and then beaten to a bloody pulp… or worse._

 _What could be worse than last night?_

That was true. Scarlett went back and forth in her mind: to run or not to run? If she were to, she'd have to take her chances in the woods. If she didn't, she would have to remain where she was; to earn Vladimir's trust and wait for a more feasible opportunity to bolt. Both actions seemed like suicide. God only knew what was waiting for her out in the forest: hostile men, harsh terrain, and probably wild animals. She had nothing to help her survive in the wilderness. But if she stayed here, she would have to let all of her morals fly out of the window, to dissolve every sense of right and wrong that she's been taught throughout her entire life. She would have to succumb to being violated over and over, used as an object for _his_ enjoyment. She buried her face in her knees. She just wanted to go home; to go back to her family. If she ran out of here right now, she'd probably be shot on sight or punished in some medieval fashion. She might have a chance if she stayed here and waited for the right opening. He was bound to get careless, right? If she kept up her image of the faithful, docile little lamb, he would let her have more freedom and then she could leave when he'd least expect it. She could do that: she could stay and then, when the moment was right, she'd make a break for it…hopefully. With any luck, she wouldn't get antsy and try to make her move too early or chicken out and not take the chance at all. She needed him to trust her, to have no doubts about her whatsoever.

A gnawing pain suddenly overtook her stomach and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. She had picked at a few pretzels during the party, but that hadn't been a real meal. She closed her eyes and thought of the fish that she had eaten countless times onboard, making her stomach tighten even more. She had almost been sick of fish, eating it day after day; cooked in every kind of way a person could imagine: fried, sautéed, baked, grilled, broiled, steamed, poached, microwaved, etc.; the cook had even made sushi on one occasion and Scarlett had tried it for the first time. It was alright; the texture was a little strange. It wouldn't be something that she would ever eat again. Meanwhile, Zoey had shoveled the contents of her own entire plate into her mouth and then had room to finish Scarlett's as well. Now, sitting here with an empty stomach and not sure of when or where her next meal would come from, Scarlett wondered how she could have ever gotten tired of the wonderful, lean meat. She could sure go for some of it right now, even if it was raw.

Scarlett opened her eyes with a little more effort than she anticipated. She hadn't slept for most the night and she had underwent levels of stress so high that she swore she was in some kind of psychological shock. Witnessing murders and enduring the "R" word had made her anxious, frightened, dizzy, and nauseous. Every single second had been filled with worry and it was draining her strength. If she snuck out of here to run away right now, she probably couldn't even get twenty yards without becoming light-headed. And if she pushed herself to the extreme, she could give herself a heart attack just from exhaustion alone. More than anything, she wanted to sleep; to make everything go away. She could let her dreams take her somewhere else, if only temporarily.

She sat back down on the mattress and laid on her side. After she tucked the flat pillow under her head, she closed her eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. She listened to the birds' chirping outside and gratefully welcomed their songs. It almost made this godforsaken place feel normal, like what had happened last night never even occurred. She honed in on the wonderful sounds of nature, and surprisingly, it was enough to lull her into a light sleep to get some much needed rest.

* * *

Vladimir made his way through the mountain village to wake the men and give out orders for the day. It had only been a short while since the sun peeked over the horizon and he knew he was going to have to smack the heads of a few idle sleepers. As he walked through the village, however, he saw many of the men were already awake. About half of them smirked as he walked past. Others gave him the evil eye. And the rest had nervous expressions on their faces as they usually did, cringing at his presence.

One, who was wearing a mischievous smile on his face, commented slyly, "Sounded like a lot of fun last night."

Vladimir shot him a glare and yelled at all of them, even waking the ones who were still lightly slumbering, "Get to work, you lazy bastards! That bridge needs reinforcements," he pointed to the unstable bridge higher up the mountain in front of the main waterfall. There were a few groans and complaints, but the men heeded his command and got to work. Vladimir joined them. He may have bossed people around like a hard ass, but he was no stranger to manual labor. He usually participated in whatever the lower-ranking workers were doing, whether it was construction, hunting, transporting supplies, testing and/or reloading firearms. It kept him busy and out of trouble. For the most part. Those were mostly the reasons why everyone worked. If they didn't, they would either lose their minds from boredom or they would began to stir up trouble within the group, resulting in their deaths.

Vladimir assisted the men by hauling scraps of lumber and other supplies to the top of the mountain, taking note of how humid it was this morning. The puddles of water from the storm last night plus the blazing sun equaled a lot of moisture in the air, making it harder to breathe. Vladimir inwardly heaved a sigh as he felt sweat roll down his chest. It was hot as hell and there were no clouds in the sky. He thought of how Mathias welcomed the sun each day, thinking that the Sun Queen's face was present in it, but Vladimir cursed the damn ball of fire. The Queen (if she did exist) was just trying to make all of them as miserable as possible. She's been pissed for centuries and wanted to bring everyone down with her by trapping them on this island and causing all sorts of erratic weather: rain, thunderstorms, typhoons, the occasional tornado; sometimes all four in one day. And then, sometimes not even an hour after such a storm, the sun would have the fucking nerve to come out and smother them all, like _she_ was mocking them. Himiko, the Sun Queen, was a bitch; that is, if she was actually real. Mathias certainly seemed to think so. He believed that until the correct girl was found to take on her spirit, the storms would continue and everyone would be stranded here forever. Bullshit, that's what Vladimir called it; but it wasn't like he was ever going to say that to the priest's face or to any of the other working grunts. Maybe everything that's occurred in his life was just bad luck. Or, maybe, life altogether was plain shit. He didn't know.

After taking the supplies up the mountain, Vladimir went into the shade of a small tree to take a breather and rehydrate. The sweat continued to roll off of him and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. He took off his coat and stripped his torso of the saturated shirts and instantly felt better. Climbing back onto the scaffolding with a few of the others, he began hammering support beams in place for the rickety bridge. Another person held the piece of wood for him while he hammered it in place. Vladimir recognized the guy's face and was seventy percent sure his name was Ace. He had come here about a year ago and was a pretty decent worker. He always did what he was told and wasn't much of a troublemaker. Although, there was a time when Ace did get into an argument with another scavenger and had ended up pushing the guy off of a cliff to his death. He seemed pretty shaken up by what he did, horrified that he killed someone by accident, but no one else had batted an eye and he'd gotten over it eventually. On a lighter note, Ace usually kicked everyone's ass in card games: poker, blackjack, Texas hold 'em, rummy, etc. Maybe that's why everyone called him Ace. He was either a really lucky player or an expert cheater.

"So? You slept well?" Ace asked in an amused tone. Vladimir was silent and continued driving the nail into the wood with determination. "C'mon, I know what you did last night. Some guys may not know and some may be choosing to look the other way, but I know. I know you didn't bring that one girl to Mathias. I was there. So, what'd you do with her? You get some action?" he wondered, but Vladimir still didn't answer him. "C'mon, Vladdy. Gimme some details. What was she like?"

Vladimir pursed his lips, trying to hold back his annoyance at the pestering. The pet name certainly didn't help either. He might as well amuse the man. Otherwise, he would be hounding him for the rest of the day.

"Ripe," he answered with a sneer.

Ace nodded his head, almost as if he were daydreaming. "Yeah. She looked pretty young. No older than twenty-five, I bet."

Vladimir grunted in agreement.

Ace went on, "Nothin' like that to make you feel ten years younger. The girl's still alive or did you…?" He slid a finger across his neck. Vladimir stopped working. He knew where this was going. It was the reason why he didn't want other men watching over her. "'Cause me and some of the other guys wanted to know, since you got first dibs on her, is she up for grabs now?" Ace wondered, clenching his teeth together in anticipation.

Vladimir raised his head to stare him dead in the eye. He felt disgusted at the thought of the others running their slimy, filthy hands over his porcelain doll. He hated the thought of coming back to her at the end of the day and seeing her all used up and exhausted; not able to give him her hundred percent. Plus, if word got around that the men in the mountain village were hiding and screwing a woman recreationally, then the men from the shanty town would want in. And then the guys from the radio tower. And the beach. Not to mention, the palace. Everything would fall back on him. He would be the culprit. And Mathias would not be happy with him if he found out.

"No," he replied sharply. "Nobody gets near her. She's mine. And you tell the others," he pointed the hammer at Ace, "if any of them touch her, I'll gut them and make them squeal like the pigs they are."

Ace's eyes widened and he went silent. He mouthed the word "okay" as he moved with Vladimir to attach the next support beam to the bridge. As he held the wood in place, he searched for words to break the thick silence.

"You must like her then," he finally mumbled. "You've got a woman waiting for you back home?" he asked the Russian.

Vladimir narrowed his eyes and paused. "…No," he muttered quietly, going back to hammering in another nail. Ace looked at him carefully, wondering why the hesitation, but decided not to push it.

"So, no guilt then. That's good," he nodded. "I used to have a wife." His face suddenly sank as he began to muse. "But she's probably moved on by now; not that I blame her. If I hadn't heard from her in over a year, or heck, just a few months, my eyes would definitely be looking for a fresh face. I still think about her sometimes, though," Ace said, embracing the support beam, like it was the woman herself. "Her name was Jesse, short for Jessica. I used to treat her like crap. God, I was such an ass. She put up with a lot of my shit and looking back, I don't know how the fuck she did it. I couldn't have. And now that I don't have her anymore, I've realized that she was the best damn thing that ever happened to me," he sighed and then lifted his head to look at his superior. "You know the saying: 'you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone'. Ain't it the truth?"

Vladimir rolled his eyes, sick of the man's attempt at small talk. In truth, Ace was boring him with his sob story and he wished the man would shut up already.

"Just work," he ordered.

After toiling on the bridge for the rest of the morning, Vladimir returned to ground level and backed away to get a full view of their work-in-progress. The structure could be repaired by tomorrow if everyone worked on it for the remainder of today and then some tomorrow. It was time for a break, though. He made his way across the village to get some food from the underground bunker, but decided to take a little side trip first. He wanted to check on the girl and see how she was faring. She had been rather quiet this morning, but he supposed that was to be expected. She was in an adjustment period at the moment, but she would come around to him eventually.

From a distance, a worker gestured to the Russian leader walking towards his lodge and his two companions looked the same direction. The duo wondered about their companion's sudden interest in the boss before he spilled the secret in a hushed whisper. The two men's eyebrows rose in astonishment. All three of them looked at one another, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Just because Vladimir forbade them to interact with this newcomer didn't mean they couldn't listen in on the two of them. Maybe they could even get a peek at this girl if they were lucky.

* * *

Vladimir pulled back the tarp in the doorway to see the girl lying on the mattress and snoozing. A part of him felt relieved and also amazed that she was still here. Upon further inspection, however, he saw that she had put her clothes back on and the table had been overturned with only three and a half legs remaining. His eyes found the last half still ensnared in the rope that was tied around her wrist, like she had been ready to make a break for it. He narrowed his eyes and stomped towards her, but the sounds of his footsteps were not enough to wake her. He was going to have to apply force.

Scarlett suddenly felt herself being flipped onto the other side of the mattress and abruptly opened her eyes, wondering what was going on. She didn't recognize her surroundings at first, but when she turned her head to look around, her eyes got huge, seeing a menacing Vladimir scowling down at her. He seized the broken table leg piece and pulled her towards him. She closed her eyes in fear as he yelled at her.

"What's this?!" he put the piece of wood in front of her face.

Scarlett began scooting away from him, but he grabbed her by the hair and forced her to stand. He slammed her into the wall and wrapped his hand around her throat. He was pissed.

"You trying to run from me?!" He reeked horribly of sweat, like he had been running with dogs for a week.

Scarlett violently shook her head as she grasped at his forearms, trying to loosen his grip. "N-no, I wasn't tryin—"

"There's nowhere for you to go! So, don't run. Because I will find you," he got even closer and began putting pressure on her windpipe, "and you won't have a pretty face after."

Scarlett shook her head more and let out a squeaky whimper. Why was he trying to kill her? Was it because she damaged the table and had gotten free? She wasn't sure, but she needed oxygen. Now.

In a desperate attempt, she reached for his face and grazed her fingertips along his cheek. Maybe the soft touch would pacify him. It sounded crazy, like that would only work in a cheesy romance novel, but she was on the verge of death here.

"Please…I won't. I swear," she croaked. He slowly retracted his hand and she coughed and gasped, trying to gather air back into her lungs. She couldn't believe that had actually worked. Something as simple as a gentle touch had saved her life. She looked back up to see his piercing eyes still burning into her, awaiting her to make the next move. He wasn't even blinking.

Not thinking too hard about her next action, she returned her hand back up to his face. It felt foreign, like she was an actress starring in a movie. She stroked his beard and put her other hand, the one that still had half the table leg dangling from it, on his bare chest.

"I'm not going to run. A-and I'm sorry about the table. The rope was just uncomfortable," she said, scrambling for words to appease him. "I want to be with you. Please, I…I can't wait for tonight," she said, dragging her fingertips down his torso. The words that came out of her own mouth shocked her. What the hell was she saying? She _wanted_ to be with him?! No, that wasn't it; she just didn't want him to kill her. She was too afraid to die. She wasn't ready for it and, right now, she was going to say anything to keep herself alive, even if it was a total lie. And, hopefully, Vladimir would take the bait, just like he was doing right now. He did seem calmer. The anger in his eyes had vanished and appeared to be replaced with a certain degree of fondness.

Vladimir couldn't remember the last time he had been touched in such an affectionate way. It felt strange, but it was nice. And her _words_. No woman has ever said things like that to him, even when he had lived in his homeland. It had always been a challenge to receive some kind of attention from the opposite sex. But this girl…she seemed to have made a complete turnaround since this morning; quite faster than he had predicted. Perhaps she was a keeper. She hadn't run, after all. She could have left once she had gotten free and caused all sorts of chaos and frustration, but she had stayed. That had to have meant something, right? Vladimir ran a finger down her jaw line and, this time, she didn't shy away.

"I can't either," he told her and tipped her chin so that her lips would meet his.

* * *

The workers that had followed Vladimir were listening outside, pressed up against the side of the shack with their ears glued to the wall to hear anything they could.

"You hear anything?" one whispered.

"Not really, but you gotta keep it down or we're gonna be leaving with broken noses," another mumbled. And that would be the least of the things Vladimir would do to them. He pushed his ear harder into the wall and heard a puckering sound. "Oh, wait! That might have been a kiss!"

" _SHHH_!" both companions shushed him as though they were trying to quiet an obnoxiously loud person in a movie theater.

"Sorry, geez…" he hissed, rolling his eyes. There was another lip-smacking noise.

"Damn, I wish I was him…" the man, who had spoken the least so far, muttered.

"I know," the first agreed, "I take a blow to the nuts for just one of those—"

"'One of those' what?"

The men jumped and turned around to see another large man with a lengthy beard and shaggy hair standing behind them. It was another one of the Russian lieutenants, Dmitri. The workers gasped and looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Vladimir hadn't prepared a cover story for them. They were on their own.

Dmitri went on to ask another question, wondering why they were staring at him so shocked. "What're you standing here for? Is Vladimir in there?"

"Uh…yeah," one of the men stammered. The worker next to him elbowed him in the gut. This was not looking good.

"Well, I need to talk to him," Dmitri motioned to move into the doorway. The third man blocked his path.

"Wait, he's…uh…not dressed."

Dmitri raised an eyebrow at the weird explanation. Something was up and in a very unusual way. "What's going on?"

The three men exchanged glances and chuckled nervously. The eyes of the person in the middle darted from side to side in hesitation as he spoke with an innocent smile, "Whatever do you mean, good, fair Dmitri? Have I ever told you that you're my favorite Russian?"

Dmitri frowned at that and crossed his arms in suspicion. "Don't start that kiss-ass shit with me. You guys are acting like you've got Baba Yaga hovering over your shoulder. Something's going on and I want to know what it is."

"Baba—who?"

The first man came to the second's rescue. "What I think our fellow co-worker is trying to say is…well, it's kinda difficult to tell one of the people Vladimir's closest to…" he sighed with fake disappointment, looking up and shaking his head with his hands on his hips.

Dmitri shifted his weight onto one leg, almost amused at what they could possibly be hiding. "Try me," he spurred.

"Well, the sad truth is…Vladimir…he's…uh…" he rolled his lips inwardly before rolling them back out with a pop, "…he's been doing drugs."

The person to his left gave him a strange look. Dmitri noticed it and pushed them a little further.

"What kind?"

"Crack!" the second person answered immediately. Too quickly, in fact. The Russian raised his eyebrows so high that they disappeared into his long hair.

"It's not that, you idiot!" the first fussed. "It's…" he snapped his fingers repeatedly to try to buy themselves more time to come up with a plausible fib.

"China white?" his acquaintance offered more timidly.

He clapped his hands together in excitement. "Yes, that's it! Vladimir's been…you know…shootin' it up lately," he said, making a motion near the inside of his forearm as if he was pushing down on a syringe. The workers held their breath, waiting for the Russian leader to give them a response. What they received made their blood freeze.

"You'll have to do better than that," he rolled his eyes and pushed his way through them, but the third man, seized his arm and pulled him further away from the hut.

"Okay, we all know he's a shitty liar," he told Dmitri and pointed a thumb at the first man, whom scowled, "Vladimir's not doing dope. Where would he even get it from?" His voice dropped down to a whisper as if he were about to confess an important secret. "Vlad's…actually…having a little _alone_ time with himself at the moment," he nodded his head slowly, wanting Dmitri to do the same. He thought his lie seemed more believable. Dmitri nodded along, making him feel more confident.

"Alone time, huh?" Dmitri asked. The worker nodded more assertively. "So, what? The three of you get off on that?" The three scavengers gawked at each other in utter disgust. "You were listening in on him, no?" the Russian asked. They were still too stunned to answer. Something was definitely up and whatever it was, he was going to find out. Dmitri pushed past them again, despite their objections, and entered the shack.

"Vladimir— oh…" Dmitri diverted his gaze upon seeing that Vladimir had his back to him and seemed to be very preoccupied with a certain body part that belonged exclusively to males. Maybe the workers weren't lying after all.

"Stop playing with yourself," Dmitri fussed, speaking in Russian. "Come with me and Nikolai to salvage the sh—" His gaze caught an additional pair of feet on the floor in between his brother's stance. Vladimir slowly turned his head with hard eyes and then a feminine face peeked around his shoulder, only to quickly bury itself back into his chest. Dmitri's eyes first got wide with disbelief and then with fury. "What…what is this?! What're you…" he was at a loss for words. When Vladimir didn't offer an explanation, Dmitri shouted another question, "Who the hell is that?!"

"Nobody," Vladimir turned his face away from him, trying to conceal the female using his large frame. "What do you want?"

Dmitri walked further into the hut and the girl tried to bury herself deeper into Vladimir's chest, as if afraid of being attacked. "Tell me what the _fuck_ you think you're doing right now!" Dmitri demanded.

Vladimir turned around completely, leaving the girl to recoil behind him. "I found her last night."

"And?" Dmitri raised his eyebrows in question, irritation thick in his voice. Vladimir only stared at him, not offering any assistance to clear up the situation.

And then…it hit him. He knew _exactly_ what Vladimir had done!

Dmitri's mouth tried to form words as his face shifted from shock to anger and then to repulsion. "Oh, brother…you…don't tell me you've _…_ " he sighed and shook his head, dramatically covering his face with his hands. "I can't believe you, Vlad! She goes to Mathias!"

"No," he stubbornly shook his head, "she's mine."

"But…you…you can't be serious! She's…"

"Mine," Vladimir finished for him. Dmitri huffed and looked at the floor, hysteria boiling up in his gut. Vladimir was really out of his mind now. What the hell made him think that he could…No, Dmitri couldn't handle this right now. It was too much. But maybe someone else would know how to deal with this mess. He snatched the radio from his belt and pushed the button to talk.

"Nikolai, get over here. There's something you have to—" Vladimir knocked the radio out of his hand and it fell to the floor. Dmitri immediately rounded on him. "What the hell?! I swear, if you don't do something to fix this—"

"Let's go. I'll explain on the way," Vladimir suggested, grabbing his shirt and coat from the floor and putting them back on.

Dmitri sighed again and retrieved his radio. "You'd better," he warned ominously. They both went to leave the shelter, but Dmitri stopped. "Isn't there something you have to do?" he scoffed, gesturing to the unrestrained girl. There was a moment of silence as both men regarded her.

"She won't run," Vladimir said, returning to the English language so that she could understand what he was saying. He eyed her, like he was the proud owner of a newly trained canine. "Right?" he asked, directing the question at her.

Scarlett hadn't even realized that he switched languages. What did he just say? Something about running? If he was leaving again it would be the absolute, perfect time to run. He would be gone, she could hide in the woods…

No. She couldn't. This was a test; a test of loyalty to him. It would be too early to leave. He was beginning to trust her, even willing to leave her without tying her up. She needed to be faithful, to get rid of any distrust he might still have of her. And better yet, it would impress him if she stayed and waited for his return, like a housewife waiting for her breadwinning husband to come home from work.

Scarlett slightly shook her head. "I won't," she whispered.

An impish smile crept onto Vladimir's face. "Good girl."

Both men left, leaving Scarlett alone again. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding and plopped onto the mattress before her legs gave out. Her body was numb, but her mind was racing so fast that it could've participated in the Indy 500.

 _Oh, my God, that was so close! I could've died. It could've been over. But, at least, he's gone now. Thank the Lord for whoever came and interrupted! But he'll will be back later and expect me to…cooperate. I don't know if I can go through with this a second time. It hurt last night. That's all I remember: how much it hurt…_

Scarlett covered her eyes and buried her face in the pillow. She wanted to scream into it. But her survival voice spoke up.

 _Think about your family, Scarlett. Get through this for them. All of them: Mom, Dad, Heidi, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. What would they think if you just gave up and died?_

Scarlett mentally scoffed at herself. _Well, they'd probably understand, considering the circumstances._

 _No!_ her other half argued. _They'd be devastated! But if you survived all of this and came back home, you'd have the happiest family on the planet. Think of how much they'd be smiling. Do this. Get through it for them._

Scarlett shuddered and let out a scream into the pillow in hopes that it would help release some anxiety. It didn't. She was just as jittery and terrified for her life and all she could do now was wait. She turned her head so that her cheek was lying flat against the pillow to breathe in some fresh air. Her eyes became redder from the tears that were forming at the thought of the horrors that awaited her tonight.

* * *

Vladimir exited the hut with Dmitri and saw the three men that had followed him earlier leaning with their ears against the hut, like a bunch of school girls. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and fired a shot at the ground right next to their feet.

"Get back to work, you fucking swine, or the next shot will be in one of your asses!" The three workers quickly departed from his presence as if he had lit a match under their rears. He watched them scram away, simmering with irritation. Why hadn't those imbeciles stopped Dmitri from barging in and ruining everything?! Now, he had to find some way to explain all of this to his brother. And that wasn't going to be easy. Once he had caught up to Dmitri, the man instantly gave him the third degree.

"What the hell are you doing, Vlad?" he asked him, switching once more to their native tongue. "Didn't you learn your lesson last time? Do you know how much you're putting us _all_ at risk?!"

"Oh, calm down. You know me," Vladimir smirked, "I can't keep my hands off a pretty lady."

Dmitri shook his head at the insanity and the two of them walked side by side through the forest, not saying anything for a few moments. "You can't keep doing this. You know that, right?"

Vladimir narrowed his eyes without giving him a glance. "Do you still believe Mathias and his 'prophecy'? Even after all these years?"

Dmitri exhaled noisily to keep his temper in check before he completely went berserk. "We've been through this a million times already and I keep giving you the same answer: I don't know. I don't know what to believe anymore," he ran a hand through his messy hair in vexation, "but I think his plan is the best shot we've got _._ It's better than just sitting around here waiting to die."

Up ahead, they saw Mathias' top-ranked lieutenant, Nikolai. He was the eldest of the three of them, wearing a black trench coat without a shirt, leaving his tattooed chest exposed. His arms were crossed and he was tapping his foot impatiently. Vladimir pursed his lips upon witnessing the new presence. He didn't want Dmitri to squeal on him and then get bombarded with all kinds of lectures, questions, or worse…requests. The less people that knew about his secret, the better.

"Don't say anything about this," Vladimir mumbled, bumping Dmitri's arm. "He doesn't need to know."

"Where have you two been? I could've smoked half a pack of cigarettes already," Nikolai complained once they reached him. He clapped a hand on Vladimir's shoulder in greeting, "Hey, brother."

Vladimir gave a grunt in reply.

"Did you try radioing me earlier?" Nikolai held up his receiver to Dmitri, his eyes narrowed in confusion. "Because it sounded like something was up."

Dmitri discreetly directed his eyes at Vladimir, whom was focusing intently on a tree, purposely avoiding to be part of the conversation. He wondered why the man was being so secretive. The three of them usually didn't keep anything from each other. But the predominant question that kept running through his mind was: " _why?_ " Why was he doing this? What was the purpose of him hoarding a girl? It couldn't just be for pleasure. Or could it? Vladimir wasn't exactly an avid thinker or in touch with his emotions on a deep level. Dmitri bit the inside of his lip, unsure of what to do. He could just rat Vladimir out right now. What was holding him back? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If he did squeal, the worst that Vladimir could do to him would be giving him the cold shoulder. And yet…

"Oh, it was nothing," Dmitri casually shrugged his shoulders, "Just some asswipes acting out again. We took care of it."

Nikolai nodded and beckoned them forward. "Alright, then, let's go. We're wasting daylight standing around here."

The other two Russians followed, heading towards the beach. On the way there, Dmitri wrestled with his thoughts. Of course, he had wanted to tell Nikolai about Vladimir's "escapade" last night, but in that moment, he couldn't find it in himself to do it. Maybe if he and Nikolai were alone in a room, he might feel more comfortable spilling the beans. Following the rules around here was crucial to survival, but having your comrades' backs was as equally as important for maintaining allies. This turmoil kept rolling around in his gut and he wondered if Vladimir was in just as much tumult as he was, though for most likely different reasons. He gave Vladimir a side glance and Vladimir returned it, but with an intimidating glare.


	7. Day 2: Afternoon

****A/N:**** **Thanks to The Hobbit Diet for tweaking this chapter. And a thanks to everyone who's reading this story! Give yourselves a pat on the back! :)**

* * *

"Borys is really running a tight ship over here," Nikolai commented after witnessing the largest Solarii, also another one of Mathias' lieutenants, bark out orders at a group of rookies on the most recent shipwreck. Mathias had made him the head honcho of the beaches and was in charge of directing the cargo operations on each and every wreck that came in. His faction's most important duty was inventory, making sure that the entire vessel was looted and that supplies were sorted according to degree of importance. Food, water, firearms, and ammunition took the highest priority. Clothing, batteries, and electronics were next. Personal hygiene items, blankets, and cookware were considered of lowest importance. Construction materials, like hammers, nails, screws, scrap metal, welding torches, drills, saws, crowbars, etc. were things essential for the growth of civilization on the island, according to Mathias. Anything else that was found that didn't fit into any of those categories was considered an indulgence or a throw-away.

Nikolai continued speaking, "Maybe it'll whip those sorry shits into shape. I know I've said it before, but I wish Mathias had given me Borys' job. He's distant from every other camp on the island, has an amazing view of the water, and best of all, he doesn't have Mathias prowling around here all the time. He's got it made. Have any of you been to see him lately?"

"No," Dmitri shook his head, his long hair literally swinging from side to side. The last time Dmitri had seen Borys was maybe a month ago. It was hard to keep track of the days. Most people did it by marking tallies on a wall as a makeshift calendar.

"We should," Nikolai said reflectively, listening to their footsteps echoing off the metal stairway while they descended below the main deck. "Sometimes I feel guilty. He probably gets bored being out here day after day with no one to talk to."

"He has the breaker crew," Dmitri suggested half-heartedly.

"That's not the same and you know it. It's not like he can talk to those cowards. Most of them are too afraid to hold a normal conversation with him. I feel for the poor bastard."

"We're not all to blame," Dmitri defended. "He's a workaholic. He could make time to see us once in a while. It's not like he _can't_."

"I guess," Nikolai sighed, attempting to release the pent-up guilt.

They began to search the numerous rooms, offices, stockrooms, and other areas. Truth be told, Nikolai just wanted to stretch his legs a bit and do some basic scavenging. Being holed up in the fortress that surrounded the palace in the middle of the island with dozens of men had been more hellish than usual for the past few days and he had been keeping an eye out for any excuse to get away from the hellhole.

"So, Vladimir," Nikolai addressed the dark-haired man, whom had been silent thus far, "that was a rambunctious crew you rounded up last night." Vladimir grunted in agreement. Recalling the events of the previous night, Nikolai almost began laughing, "That fat one that told off Mathias, I knew he was going to get it. And I almost burst out laughing when the runt next to him began to piss his pants. That was the most entertaining bunch we've had in quite some time. How many ended up being tossed in the pit?" Nikolai asked Dmitri since he was the one in charge of the caverns beneath the Japanese palace. The palace resided on the eastern side of the island and has been serving as the Solarii's headquarters for the past fifteen years or so. Mathias had chosen it because of its vantage point, so that he could access any point or camp on the island in record time. So, it went without saying, whenever he called for a surprise inspection, it was not fun. The stronghold also served as protection, as they weren't the only inhabitants on the miniscule piece of land. Himiko's undead warriors still patrolled and guarded her tomb and they didn't take kindly to visitors. There were a few times Mathias had ordered his own men into the ancient monastery for examination, only for them to be killed or run out by the Sun Queen's immortal soldiers. As long as the two groups kept their distance from each other, there would be peace. Every now and then however, the Solarii leader ordered some followers to go back into the hermitage to gather some information, which would then cause an uproar with the immortals and result in deaths or injuries to the scavengers. But it's been a while since something like that has happened.

Dmitri responded with, "Six. And now their guts are probably scattered all over down there." He sighed, imagining how horrible the newfound stench would be when he returned to his domain later tonight. If male survivors that were brought here by the wrecks were thought to fit the criteria for being a Solarii, they were thrown into the caverns and left there to fend for themselves. Sometimes it was for days; sometimes weeks. It differed for every person, depending on his mental capacity and willpower. By doing this, the humanity in them would slowly degrade as it became harder to survive until it would simply cease to exist. The majority of prisoners would starve, go insane, and/or die. Many of them turned cannibalistic, eating anything alive that came into their presence. But if they did manage to survive that brutal hell with their broken minds still somewhat intact, Mathias would build them up again with his Sun Queen propaganda and they would become indoctrinated into the brotherhood, being given a specific duty and following the priest unconditionally.

"Shame," Nikolai shook his head disapprovingly at the thought of human innards sprawled all over the cave floor. "At least we got two women out of it, though," he mentioned on a lighter note.

"I heard it mentioned that there were _four_ …" Dmitri looked accusingly back at Vladimir, whom, in turn, glowered at him.

"There were? What happened?" Nikolai asked, going into what looked like a lavatory.

"Only three," Vladimir corrected before Dmitri could say anything more. "One of them was too much. She wouldn't shut up. Killed her before we got to the palace."

"Well, damn…" Nikolai sighed, rummaging through a crowded cabinet. "At least Mathias picked one of them so we can have a ceremony tonight. Are both of you going?"

"I am," Dmitri shrugged.

"What about you, Vladimir?"

Vladimir pretended to not hear the question. A red, blinking light further down the hallway caught his attention and he went to it. Standing directly under it, he looked to his left to see a room with the door ajar. There were bunk beds in it.

"Vlad?" Nikolai called out again.

"No," he finally replied loudly to make sure his voice was heard down the corridor.

"Why not?"

"Yeah. Why not?" Dmitri smirked and leaned against the doorframe of the restroom, already knowing the reason.

"I've got a card game with the guys," Vladimir answered quickly and stepped into the room with the unmade bunks before they could bombard him with more questions. The room had probably housed some of the women because it was jam-packed with possessions. One thing he's learned after salvaging all these years is that women always packed a lot more belongings than men; essential and luxury items, like clothes, books, cosmetics, medications, toiletries, and more. The scavengers' faces would light up like Christmas morning whenever they would find even the simplest items, such as a travel size shampoo bottle, nail clippers, shaving cream, lotion, a compact mirror, an interesting book, or a chocolate bar.

There were suitcases crammed into the space between the wall and beds. Vladimir slid them out and unzipped them, but found only ladies' clothes. Moving to the closet, he swiped through the garments that hung on the hangers at lightning speed, scanning for any size larger than a small, but there was nothing. He kicked at the pairs of shoes that were lying overturned on the floor, but he could tell everything was too miniscule. There was nothing that could fit a man of his size.

He moved on to delving through the beds and stepped onto the bed frame to reach the top bunk and ripped the sheets from the mattress. Many people liked to hide their intimate things where they slept, such as pictures, journals, or drugs; occasionally one would even find an erotic magazine and then have some fun with it later. Going through the bunk, Vladimir found an empty plastic water bottle and a discarded brassiere. He pinched the straps of it as though it was diseased and held it up against his chest. He scrunched his face in awkwardness and tossed it with the rest of the linens onto the floor. Some other worker would probably find it shortly, stuff it into his pocket, and then use it at his leisure if he had the imagination for it. Moving on down to the bottom bunk, Vladimir drew back the covers and prodded at the mattress.

Nothing.

He picked up the pillow and something slid out from the casing. Vladimir retrieved the item and discovered it to be a rosary. He hung it in front of him at eye-level and stared at the crucifix. It made him think about the girl last night; how she had asked him if he had believed in God. Back when he and his comrades had first gotten marooned on this island almost twenty years ago (a roundabout estimate), he used to think that someone or something greater was looking out for them and they would somehow be saved. But after all this time being stranded here with no hope or sign that they were even going to be rescued, he realized it was foolish to think that some "God" was going to get them off this rock. Vladimir scowled and hurled the rosary into the open closet. It collided against the back wall with a rattled thwack and slid down into the heap of shoes. Stupid! All of that was stupid! Faith, hope, the girl…He was doomed to spend the rest of his life here.

But if he thought about it, what did he actually have to go home to? Prison had been his home back in Russia and will always be his home on this island. And nothing was going to change that.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Vladimir went to the desk that was cluttered with textbooks, notepads, and pencils. Opening the top drawer, he found some papers with diagrams of sharks and examined them curiously, trying to read the small English words in the margins of the pages. Even though he was bilingual to some degree, he didn't recognize many of the words. Heck, he had picked up most of the English language over the years from the men on the island. Mathias often corrected his broken English when he was in the beginning stages of learning the tongue and would scold him whenever he used vulgar words that he had learned from various workers' casual conversations, saying that civilized people shouldn't speak with that kind of vocabulary. Vladimir would then roll his eyes for being treated like a child and dismiss the priest's condescending tone with a huff.

"'A card game with the guys'?"

Vladimir started and bumped his knee hard enough into the desk to cause a potential bruise. He raised his head to see Dmitri leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.

"That's what you came up with?" Dmitri asked, seemingly unimpressed. Vladimir's eyes tailed him as he wandered into the cabin and passed the mirror that hung on the outside of the closet door.

Looking into the mirror, he frowned and commented, "Damn…I look like shit…" He rubbed the dirt off his face and ran his fingers through his oily, unkempt, dirty blond hair. Vladimir went back about his business, flipping through a biological textbook just to keep his mind busy. The silence was almost too much for the small room to handle.

"You know it's not good to keep secrets around here, brother," Dmitri finally spoke again, grabbing a purple hairbrush from the accessory organizer hanging on the inside of the door and grooming his hair and lengthy beard with it. Vladimir snapped the large book closed with an irritated sigh.

"It's _fine_ ," he replied, hinting that this topic was not up for discussion.

" _No_. It's _not_ ," Dmitri countered, setting the brush down. "You know what's going to happen if this goes any further. Somebody's going to rat you out and Mathias will take the girl away. He'll be disappointed in you and then, because I'm in on your little escapade now, I'm going to take the rap for it too," Dmitri fussed and looked down at the floor where something shiny caught his eye. He picked it up and examined it closely.

"What's that?" asked Vladimir, craning his neck forward. Dmitri rotated the small, flat, rectangular object in his hands, the light shining off of its metallic backside.

"I think it's one of those things that plays music. The men talk about them all the time, always saying they wished they had one. They say it's called an 'I…I-something'." He searched for a button and found one on the top corner. He pressed it and waited, but nothing happened. "Stupid piece of junk," he sighed and tossed it onto the table, but accidently grazed one of the options on the touch screen in the process and the sound of a shredding electric guitar suddenly overtook the room at full blast.

"Turn it off!" Vladimir slammed his palm down on the desk.

Dmitri picked up the device and frantically pressed the power button repeatedly, but it wouldn't turn off. "Dammit! It won't—"

Vladimir snatched the trinket from him and smashed it on the desk repeatedly until it died. "There…" he sighed in relief.

"Gee, thanks," Dmitri told him sarcastically. "I could have used that, you know? Or traded it for some smokes."

Vladimir grunted as a sign that he didn't care and crouched to the floor to search for anything underneath the desk.

Nothing.

He whipped his head away in frustration and that's when his eye caught sight of some kind of container beneath the bottom bunk. He honed in on it and slid out what looked to be a gun case.

 _Jackpot!_

He opened it and what was revealed was immaculate. He grazed his fingers against the wood grain and the cold metal of a long rifle. Desperately wanting to feel its weight, he pulled it out and caressed the barrel and scope like it was a young babe. Peering back into the case, he saw a colorful box of ammunition that was also included. How great was this shipwreck?! It brought him a young, compliant woman AND a rifle _with_ ammunition! He wondered what other surprises could still be hiding around here.

"Good find," Dmitri commented begrudgingly, still in a sour mood over the smashed music player. Vladimir tilted the rifle back and forth to examine it more before pushing the stock into his shoulder to get a feel for it. Bitterness still brewing within him, Dmitri changed the subject. "So, when are you handing over the girl?"

"Would you relax?" Vladimir said lazily, gazing into the scope. "She's not what Mathias is looking for, so you can get off my ass."

"You don't know that. She might be," Dmitri argued.

Vladimir lowered the rifle into his lap and gave him a heated look. "No. You still don't get it, do you? All of that is bullshit," he spat.

Dmitri shook his head and ignored Vladimir's pessimistic declaration. "Mathias has been saying that the One is coming any day now. That girl could be it."

Vladimir rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, "He's been saying that for the past ten years. Trust me. It's not this girl. It's not any girl. There is no 'Chosen One'," he slung the gun over his shoulder and pushed past his brother to exit the room.

Dmitri pivoted on his heel, "If you don't give her to Mathias, Vladimir, I'll…I'll…" he trailed off.

Vladimir turned back to him. "You'll what? Make me?" he sneered and used the tips of his fingers to lightly push him back.

Dmitri glared at him, desperately wanting to give him a good punch in the face. "Don't make this hard. You had your fun last night. Just turn her in."

Vladimir got mere inches from his face and spoke in a low, ominous growl, "Why don't you fuck off, huh? I'll do what I want," he turned and walked down the hallway.

Dmitri sighed in exasperation and caught up with him, trying his best to be patient. "Look, I want to get off this damned island and I know you do too. And you're not helping by holding that girl hostage."

Vladimir disregarded him.

"Vlad—" Dmitri put a hand on his shoulder to turn him around, but Vladimir pushed him back. Dmitri scowled and pushed him and Vladimir shoved him into the metal wall with a snarl, causing a ruckus.

"Hey!" Nikolai came up the stairs from the lower level. "What's going on up here?"

The other two Russians continued glaring daggers at one another, not bothering to look at their eldest brother.

"What're we fighting about today?" Nikolai questioned, like he was a teacher that had to break up a fight between two school children.

Still, neither one answered him.

"C'mon, if this is about whose dick is the largest, we already had this discussion and agreed that it's mine."

Both Vladimir and Dmitri finally took their eyes off of each other and both gave him a look of annoyance. They also noticed that he had shaved, trimmed, and shaped some of his facial hair because the edges looked a lot cleaner, especially around his moustache.

"You find anything?" Vladimir asked, seeing that he was carrying a small bag in his right hand.

"While you two were standing idly by and chit-chatting, I actually got some work done and searched an office. That's where I found this," Nikolai held up a pistol in his left hand. "And this ship even has a laboratory downstairs. It has a lot of chemicals and from looking at some of the labels, a few are poisonous. The crew is going to round them up later. Might be useful to go along with some weaponry. Just imagine putting some poison on the tip of an arrow and down goes your target in an instant. And would you believe this place has a walk-in freezer too? The men found a dead shark strung up in there along with some medical tools. Seems like it was awaiting an autopsy. From the looks of everything, my guess is that this was a research ship," he concluded proudly. He noticed the firearm dangling around Vladimir's shoulder and nodded at it. "Good find."

"How big is the shark?" Dmitri wondered.

Nikolai turned to him, "A few hundred pounds, at least. The bastard's got some ugly teeth," he smiled. "Some guys are cutting it down and will harvest it tonight. They said we could come back tomorrow to get a taste if we wanted. And look what I found," he grinned and opened the knapsack, letting his brothers see its contents: three bottles of bourbon whiskey.

* * *

The sun maybe had an hour or two left of its life by the time the three Russians were walking back through the forest with their newly scavenged items. It was quiet in the woods when they heard a snapping sound, making them halt instantly. It could have been anything: a tree limb falling, a rabbit, a deer, a wolf, another Solarii, a rogue survivor—anything. All three of them put a hand over their guns in anticipation.

Finally, a wail broke the intense silence. A deer appeared from out of the brush, at least fifty feet away, but then quickly retreated back into it. It would be the perfect opportunity to try out the new hunting rifle that was slung around Vladimir's shoulder. And fresh meat was always a welcome addition to their usual menu, which mostly consisted of canned, processed, or dried food. Vladimir fished around in his coat pocket for the ammunition he stole from the wreck and loaded the gun, inserting five cartridges into the magazine. He got down on one knee in the grass and waited for any sign of movement while his brothers lowered themselves to the ground as well and kept scanning the brush, their eyes raking back and forth.

Vladimir eventually spotted the deer cautiously emerging out from behind the flora and immediately took a shot, the noise shattering the serenity of the environment. It was a miss.

"Damn, you better get it or the last thing you'll be seeing is its ass," Dmitri quietly mocked.

Growling, Vladimir swiftly jammed the lever action forward to make the empty cartridge shoot out the side of the gun with a metallic _clink_ and then retracted it to load another bullet into the chamber. He forcefully wrapped the sling around his arm in haste for a steadier shot. The deer was steadily fleeing and Vladimir whistled loudly, making it stop dead in its tracks to locate the source of the new sound—a little trick he had learned from one of the working grunts, one whom many had labelled as a "redneck". The animal wildly turned in circles with its ears forward and erect, unsure of what to do at this point. Vladimir took advantage of the momentary pause and fired a second shot into the deer's back. It let out a cry as it crashed into the ground.

"You got it," Dmitri said, standing back up to his full height. Vladimir silently walked towards the animal and Dmitri hissed after him, "What are you doing?! You're supposed to wait."

Vladimir approached the hind to see its flank rising and falling at a rapid pace. There was dark, crimson blood mixed into the light brown hair on its back. The deer's breathing became even more spastic when he got closer, only being a yard away now. It gave him a snort and a kick with its back leg to ward him off, but Vladimir took out his pistol and aimed at the animal. Agony and terror filled its dark brown eyes.

"Vlad—" he heard Dmitri approach from behind and then shot four consecutive rounds at the hind's head, splattering bits of skull and brain onto the grass. Vladimir kept the gun in its position, almost debating whether or not he should shoot Dmitri now. It wouldn't be a fatal shot, just in the arm or the shoulder. It would only be enough to make him not snitch.

No. He shouldn't make a scene. If he did, then everyone would want to know why he shot his brother. He pursed his lips and gradually lowered his arm. Nikolai joined them.

"You okay, broth—" he paused upon seeing the deer's mutilated cranium. "Damn, you've got a mess there."

Vladimir sighed. He knew he was going to have to clean it up. That was the rule: whoever killed it, cleaned it.

"Who has a knife?" he asked his two companions. Nikolai pulled a hunting knife out of the knapsack.

"Just found this one," he handed the weapon to him. It appeared to have seen some use, but it couldn't have been older than a few years. Vladimir positioned himself at the rear end of the deer and flipped it onto its back.

"Hold the legs," he ordered the two other men and they stood on either side of the animal, grabbing a front and back leg in each hand and pulling them away from the body. Vladimir stooped down and made an incision along the belly up to its chest. He was tying off each end of the digestive track to prevent any contents from escaping when Nikolai spoke up.

"Save the liver. We can eat it when we get back."

Vladimir grunted in reply, his hands full of blood. Deer liver was pretty good. Deer heart was also excellent. He would save that too. After disconnecting the organs from the body walls, Vladimir rolled the dead deer onto its side and the entrails slid out onto the slope along with a pool of blood. The wolves would thank him later for such a feast. He wrapped the venison liver and heart in a cloth and stuffed it into the knapsack. Bringing out some rope, he tied it around the torso of the deer and it was ready to be taken back to the village.

Nikolai walked in front, Dmitri in the middle, and Vladimir brought up the rear, dragging the carcass across the ground. Looking back and seeing Vladimir a considerable distance behind, Nikolai motioned to Dmitri.

"Make sure he doesn't give himself a heart attack," he mumbled, pointing his thumb back at the man behind them. Dmitri glanced behind to see Vladimir working like a mule to tow the dead animal along with the extra weight of the hunting rifle slung around his torso. In all, what he was hauling was well over a hundred pounds.

"I think he's fine," Dmitri said with coldness.

"C'mon," Nikolai persisted, pulling a bottle of liquor from the bag. "I'm the oldest out of all of us. I'm supposed to watch out for the both of you." He undid the screw top and took a swig. Dmitri hung his head and sighed in defeat. He waited for his dark-haired brother to catch up and began walking alongside him.

"What do you want?" Vladimir muttered, expecting another attempt at persuasion.

"Nothing." Dmitri stared at the deer's disfigured head. It looked as though someone had smashed it with a mallet. Membranes, muscle, and bone were exposed and the carcass was picking up dirt and mud as it slid across the ground. "Messy kill," he commented.

Vladimir spoke with a hint of hostility, "Maybe I wanted it that way."

Dmitri picked up on his tone. "What? You thought of _me_ when you shot that thing all those times?! Are you seriously that pissed off at me?!"

"I made it quick," Vladimir defended.

Dmitri rolled his eyes and made an exasperated sigh. "C'mon, Vlad. This isn't my fault. Just do what you're supposed to and bring the girl to Mathias for Christ's sake! And then maybe you can stop acting like this."

"Like what?" Vladimir whipped his head to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"Like…I don't know. Like an ass. You're keeping the girl and it's not doing anyone any good. It's being selfish is what it is."

"Quit being a kiss-ass and mind your own damn business," Vladimir spat and got a better grip on the rope.

The derogatory comment made Dmitri frown. "You remember what Mathias says about the women? They go to the Oni or the ritual. That's it. Nothing else and no exceptions."

Vladimir argued, "She's a nobody; a defenseless, little pet, capable of nothing. She knows her place."

"Oh? And where's that? Under you; getting fucked? You have to think this through, Vlad. And not just about what Mathias would do if he found out. What if the girl tries something in your sleep, such as—oh, I don't know— _killing_ you?! She needs to be kept under more watchful eyes."

"My damn eyes are fine," Vladimir shot back hotly.

"But what if she's the Chosen One? I'm trying to get through to you, brother. I really am. If she's the One, we can go home. You remember home, right? With beds, electricity, food, showers, and as many girls as you liked. If you bring the girl to Mathias and she actually passes the test, we can get all of that back. Don't you miss it?"

Vladimir turned to him in disbelief. "You think I don't?! I'm sick of this goddamn place! It's been twenty fucking years and we're not any closer to getting off this fucking island than when we first got here! So, get this through your thick skull: we're not going back. Not ever. There is no Chosen One. So, get off my goddamn back." He gripped the rope even harder and walked faster.

Dmitri increased his own pace to keep up. "You doubt Mathias?" he interrogated. "You doubt what he told us from the beginning? About salvation?"

Vladimir halted and fully faced him, nearly at the end of his fuse. "Nothing's. Coming. _Brother_. No girl and no fucking spirit of a queen is going to save us. And don't be a hypocrite. You know none of that shit is real."

"I told you already, I don't know what to think anymore," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Mathias keeps telling us these things and, in my mind, I know it's total bull. But a small part of me still wonders if all what he says is true."

"Maybe in his own mind," Vladimir snorted and began walking again.

"C'mon, Vlad. Crazy or not, he trusts us. It's what's kept us alive all this time. And we need to keep it that way. What's the harm in giving up the girl?"

Vladimir paused for a moment before answering. "He'll take her from me." He realized how childish that sounded when the words left his mouth and felt a tinge of embarrassment.

Dmitri let out an annoyed huff. "What's so special about this one?"

Vladimir whipped his head away to focus on the ground in front of him. "…Nothing."

Dmitri stared at him intensely now, wondering what was going through the man's head. An idea came to his mind and it was so ridiculous, but he had to make sure what he was about to ask was not actually happening. "You're not falling for her, are you?"

Vladimir snorted again and rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face. "You're hilarious, you know that?" he told him in amusement. "I just admire her purity. It's _refreshing_."

"Look, I know you want to—you know—from time to time. We all do. But maybe you should just give her up. For everybody's sake. I mean, she's never going to replace—"

Vladimir instantly glowered. "Shut up. You don't know anything," he snarled and walked ahead again, conveying that he no longer wanted to talk.

Dmitri glared after him. It was just like Vladimir to say something like that to him. The man thought he was superior to him. Before they had all got shipwrecked on this island, Vladimir and Nikolai had known each other pretty well. They had done a couple of jobs together back home in Russia for the black market and were even incarcerated for some time in the same prison, so needless to say, they had become fast acquaintances. When they had signed up for this one exporting job, Dmitri and Borys just happened to be on the same ship. Then when the storm hit, they all became stranded here together. And after Mathias had killed off the ones who wouldn't accept his "truth" about this island, the remaining men of the Russian crew became close. As time progressed, the group began to thin out, dropping dead one by one like flies when they demonstrated that they couldn't follow Mathias' orders. And pretty soon, it was just Nikolai, Vladimir, Dmitri, and Borys left. At first, Dmitri felt like an outsider, not being included in Vladimir and Nikolai's friendship, but over time, both he and Borys earned their trust and they formed a tight-knit circle. They became a sort-of family, calling each other "brother". And better yet, Mathias gave all four of them the rank of lieutenant, becoming his most trusted men. Dmitri had learned a few things about Vladimir's past from Nikolai and, to say the least, the man had a loose screw in his head somewhere. It was almost like he didn't have to learn savagery for life out here; he was born already knowing it. And it often made him wonder how much humanity was really left in the man's heart, if any at all.

* * *

Once back at the mountain village, Vladimir, Dmitri, and Nikolai headed toward the old underground bunker. The Solarii stored their perishables down there because of the cooler temperatures and it kept the wolves from stealing all of their hard-earned meat.

"It's getting close to sunset. We shouldn't stay too much longer," Nikolai mentioned. Dmitri watched Vladimir continue to drag the deer.

"We'll help him with that," he nodded towards the carcass, "eat a little, and then leave."

They reached the ladder that descended into the bunker and Vladimir lowered the dead animal to the ground first before descending down the ladder himself with Nikolai and Dmitri following him. The smell hit them first. It reeked of decaying flesh and spoiled meat. Flies were buzzing around continuously.

The three Russians lifted the deer carcass together and carried it down the tunnel to prevent it from getting contaminated by the grimy water that permanently laid puddled on the ground. Only a handful of torches sitting in sconces lit their way.

They reached the main area that contained the foul odors and the lighting increased due to the large number of candles. After making an incision through the tarsals of the deer's back legs, they hung the carcass on two vacant hooks protruding from the ceiling. Nikolai and Vladimir began the skinning process while Dmitri kept a flashlight on them. Within five minutes, the hide was completely stripped off and Vladimir laid it on a table, fur-side down, scraped off whatever flesh was left, and then salted the hide to dry it. He slid the flat part of the knife across his pant leg to remove the fur and bits of flesh from the blade before retrieving the liver and heart from Nikolai's bag to clean them.

Nikolai handed a bottle of whiskey to Dmitri, whom opened it and downed a shot. He pursed his lips as he felt the liquid burn as it slid down his throat. He hadn't had anything this strong in a while.

"You think this'll be the One?" he mumbled quietly, watching Vladimir work.

"What?" Nikolai wondered.

"The girl in the ritual tonight. You think she'll be the 'key'?"

"Pffft. Who knows?" Nikolai shrugged his shoulders. "At this point, Mathias is just buying his time. I wouldn't get my hopes up. The rituals are good entertainment at best." He drank another mouthful of liquid out of his bottle and turned his head to Vladimir. "Hurry up, Vlad. The smell is starting to get to me," he fussed, waving his hand in front of his face and grimacing at some of the rotting meat on the ground next to a pile of bones.

Once Vladimir finished preparing the organs, they exited the bunker, went to an already-made fire, and placed the food in a cast iron skillet on top of the flames. The sizzle of cooking meat made their mouths water. It smelled like heaven. After turning a golden brown, the offal was ready to be devoured.

"It was good to get out of that hellhole for a change," Nikolai grabbed a small portion of the sliced liver. "Mathias has been breathing down my neck more than usual lately. I swear, the older he gets, the more his mind…" Nikolai twirled his finger in a circle around his ear and whistled, implying the man's descent into insanity. "I'm still surprised nobody's turned against him yet. That old bastard's never going to die." He took another swig of booze.

"No, he's just going to carry on and on one day and that'll be the day you snap and shoot him," Dmitri mumbled, adjusting a charred log with his foot.

"Yeah," Nikolai sighed and tsked. "It'll be like putting down an old dog. And then after that, I'll be the one in charge."

"Who says you get to be leader?" Dmitri questioned.

"It's a law of nature," Nikolai responded matter-of-factly. "The authority goes to the oldest. And because I'm his first Solarii."

Dmitri scoffed at that.

"What? You want to fight me for it?" Nikolai challenged.

"Humph. No."

"We're the ones controlling everything right now, for the most part. It's not like it would be much different. I would change a few things, though," he suggested, taking another piece of meat.

"Like what?" Dmitri reached for some of the cooked heart, but Vladimir slapped his hand away.

"Mine," Vladimir mumbled under his breath when Dmitri gave him a cross look.

"These women," Nikolai answered. "They shouldn't have to be treated so harshly. If they want to live, they would have to agree to service us. Seems a lot more merciful than just giving them the death sentence. I don't think Mathias understands that we _need_ to do it sometimes. It would be a release. And then everyone would be a lot calmer. Like right now, Mathias won't even let us put a finger on the one he chose for tonight. God forbid we so much as touch her waist."

"Yeah, or anything else," Dmitri gave a sideways glance to Vladimir, whom glared back and kept silent.

"It's gotten so bad that sometimes I swear I can _smell_ a woman, even if she's not in the same room," Nikolai droned on and glanced at the leftover meat in the skillet. With his mind still on food, he continued, "There's this one guy that's been puking his guts out for a few days now. I don't know if he's still battling the cholera or if he ate something rancid, but he can't hold anything down, food or water. Mathias said to kill him if he keeps wasting supplies."

"He worked today?" Dmitri asked, leaning back against a tree.

"He switched to the nightshift. The hot sun was getting to be too much for him. Poor bloke. He's one of the good workers too."

Vladimir let out a sigh at this useless chatter. He wanted the two men to leave so that he could turn in for the night.

"What's with you?" Nikolai raised an eyebrow.

"Restless," he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Why?"

Dmitri answered before Vladimir had the chance to. "He misses his…"

Vladimir gave him his most infuriated look yet. Dmitri caught his eye and sighed internally. He was getting weary of receiving the pissed off looks and the death threats all day long. He really didn't want to leave things on a bad note with the man tonight, so he decided to give in. If what Vladimir had said about the girl was true, then she was nothing more than a casual fling. Vladimir would soon grow tired of her and eventually turn her over to Mathias; and then the two of them would be on good terms once again. They may have bickered and had their fair share of pissing contests in the past, but they had never taken it too far. They were brothers; maybe not blood brothers, but close enough.

"…sister," Dmitri finished, "if you know what I mean."

Nikolai gazed into the fire and nodded. "Oh, yeah. Anya," he bowed his head and sighed heavily. "She was a pretty little thing."

Vladimir shortly interrupted, wanting to bring this gathering to a close. "Shouldn't you both get going? It's almost sunset," he quickly said, grabbing the cooked heart and wrapping it in the bloody cloth.

"Yeah, I guess so," Nikolai agreed and got up from the crate where he had been sitting. "Well, cheers to Himiko, little Miss Sunshine herself. May she keep Mathias under her spell and continue making our lives a miserable hell," Nikolai joked, brought his drink up, and they all clanked their bottles together. "See you around, Vlad. Let's go, Dmitri."

"Humph, good luck," Vladimir sneered and the trio spilt off into opposite directions.

Dmitri shadowed Nikolai, but looked back at Vladimir. Knowing what the man was on his way to go do made him grimace. He knew Vladimir was peeved at him, but he didn't want to let the situation get out of hand.

Most of the time, Vladimir was a strong, reliable, and authoritative man, but he had his "moments". Everyone around here did, either out of rebellion or insanity. It was actually to be expected after being stuck in one place for years on end, stripped to nothing and having to start life over only using the basic necessities. Not to mention having a demented man like Mathias running the whole place with everyone under his thumb. Heck, even Dmitri had the occasional "episode". Once, after he had witnessed yet another failed ritual, he had stormed through the caverns, clutched onto the bars of the door that led to the pit, and let out a long, enraged scream. Then, he kicked open said door, grabbed the first prisoner he could find, and beat the man until he could no longer move. Needless to say, the prisoner didn't make it through the night; the other captives took advantage of his vulnerability and had consumed him within minutes. So whether this "phase" Vladimir was going through was out of insanity or simple rebellion, Dmitri wasn't certain. It was probably best to let the situation work itself out on its own: Vladimir would get caught within the next couple of days and the girl would be handed over to Mathias; simple as that. There was no reason for him to get involved. The men loved to talk and rumors usually spread like wildfire around here. But he was not going to be a complete pushover about the situation. If no one ratted his brother out within, say, three days, then Dmitri would have to step in and take control. He would just tell Mathias that he "stumbled" upon the girl one day in Vladimir's domain. And then, his brother would receive the proper penalty as he should. Punishments around here ranked from a simple slap on the wrist all the way up to death, sometimes even worse than that. And keeping a woman from Mathias certainly called for a severe punishment, possibly even a death sentence.


	8. Day 2: Evening

**A/N:** **Sorry about the small delay. It'll probably be tougher for me to update for the rest of this month and the next, but I'll try my hardest. Thanks for viewing! And thanks to The Hobbit Diet for looking over this and helping me with it.**

 **Warning: This chapter contains strong sexual content that is not fully consensual. Read at your own risk.**

* * *

Scarlett was lightly dozing when she heard the shuffling of feet and nervously opened one eye. Upon seeing who it was that entered, she immediately felt panic race through her. She sat up in order to defend herself against whatever unjustly act he was about to perform on her, but Vladimir didn't go for her straightaway. She watched him grab the overturned table and place it right side up, followed by sliding a wooden block under the broken table leg. The whole thing still wasn't level, but it didn't fall over. He set a bottle of liquid down on it along with something wrapped in a bloody cloth. Oh God, what disgusting thing did he have?

Unwrapping the bundle, it was the smell that reached her first. It smelled like cooked meat, which wasn't what she expected at all. That meant he had food. Real food. And it smelled wonderful. She would have jumped up and cried for joy, but she knew better than to do so. She didn't think Vladimir was the type to put up with frivolous behavior. She eyed the meat while he lit the candle on the table with a lighter. Scarlett felt her mouth water, but when she noticed that he was staring at her, she diverted her attention elsewhere. She didn't want to appear needy.

Something else that made her anxiety skyrocket was the sight of a rifle leaning against the wall next to him. A pistol, by itself, was frightening enough, but for him to possess two guns seemed like overkill. Squinting in the candlelight, however, she thought the gun looked very familiar. She recognized the model, the finish, and even that long scratch across the stock. It was her dad's! She wanted to smack her palm against her forehead. Vladimir had stolen the gun from under her bunk on the ship because she had been stupid and forgotten to give the gun to Channing. She was supposed to have given it to him right when they had met on the _Commendation_ , but everyone had been so busy and she figured she would give it to him at a later time. But she hadn't; there had been too many distractions. And now, the firearm was in the hands of a dangerous murderer. Scarlett's stomach clenched at a fearful thought: what if she died by her father's own gun, the gun that they would both use on all of their hunting trips together? It was too morbid to think about, but by God, she would try to keep that from happening.

Vladimir started to approach her and she backed further into the wall. He pulled out a knife and she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself for pain. He grabbed her wrist and Scarlett wanted to tear it right from his grasp. What was he trying to do? Cut her? She kept her eyes clenched shut and then heard a shredding sound. She no longer felt the weight on her wrist and opened her eyes to see that the rope that had ensnared her was lying on the floor along with the remaining chunk of the broken table leg. He had cut it off.

Vladimir went back to the table and silently pointed to the chair, motioning for her to sit. Scarlett hesitantly stood and sat down on the piece of furniture. He ripped off a small chunk of browned meat and tossed it in her direction. He began to eat while Scarlett stared at the food with her knees drawn up to her chest. There was red still on the inside of it, like a rare cooked steak. She didn't know what kind it was, but she knew this was not the time to be picky. She would have to eat whatever he brought her, even if she didn't like it. She slowly stretched out her hand to take the meat, almost afraid that her hand was too close in proximity to his. Scarlett snatched it and tore off a strip. It had a soft texture and was dark like beef, but she didn't think that any cattle were kept around here since it was mostly forest, so it might be deer. Just to be sure, though, Scarlett watched Vladimir eat a few pieces before she decided to put it in her mouth. She deliberately chewed. It had a smooth texture, but it didn't taste like any meat she's ever eaten, although it wasn't bad. It just needed a bit of seasoning. But being so hungry at this point, Scarlett would think a piece of cardboard tasted good.

She finished her portion and touched her fingertips together. They were greasy. A part of her wanted to lick them clean to get all of the flavor off, but she didn't want to look like a desperate dog licking its bowl after finishing a meal. She wiped her fingers on her jeans, leaving a stain, and simply looked at him. Hopefully, her pouting lip would get him to give her some more.

Vladimir noticed her doe-eyed staring, grabbed the bottle of golden brown liquid, and tilted it towards her, offering her some. She read the label: bourbon whiskey. It was alcohol. She declined with a shake of her head. This was not the time to get drunk.

He offered a second time. She refused again.

"Drink," Vladimir slid the bottle to her.

She stared at it. Then, she brought it to her nose, sniffed the rim, and scrunched up her face. It had a pungent smell. Scarlett brought the drink to her lips and let a tiny bit of liquid flow into her mouth. It tasted foul. She shuddered, curling her lips inward so that she wouldn't spit it out, and forced the drink down her throat. It burned. She coughed into the back of her hand, blinking away the tears that were forming, and slid the bottle to Vladimir. He gave a nod and took a swig himself, taking in her backwash. The taste lingered in her mouth, giving off a flavor of something warm and inviting. Even though the aftertaste wasn't horrible, she wouldn't drink the liquor again just to get that flavor. But Vladimir decided to challenge her by passing the bottle back in her direction.

"Drink more."

"You can have it," Scarlett croaked.

" _Drink_." His command was final.

Scarlett didn't know how mean of a drunk Vladimir could be and she certainly didn't want to find out. She slowly lifted the bottle up and swallowed another sip as quickly as she could, trying not to taste the liquid. It burned like fire going down her esophagus. How could people drink this stuff for fun? She placed the bottle back on the table, wiping her mouth with her hand. The warm, oaky flavor overtook her mouth again. She went back to staring at the meat while cleansing the lip of the bottle free of saliva. She was so hungry right now that her stomach could eat itself.

Vladimir continued to eat until there was only a small amount of food left when he finally looked at Scarlett's beseeching face. There was a hint of a sadistic glimmer in his eye. He dangled the last of the meat in front of her face.

"Drink, then you can have this."

Scarlett tried to not let him see her sigh. She dreaded grabbing that bottle again, knowing that the more she drank, the more the situation would head south and only result in God-knows-what, but she was starving. She swallowed a full gulp of the firewater this time, feeling a scorching sensation in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to make the feeling disappear.

"Another," Vladimir commanded.

She put a fourth shot down.

"More."

Scarlett obeyed yet again and then slammed the bottle down on the table. She was starting to feel funny, like really warm and fuzzy and almost _too_ relaxed. No more drinks. She wanted food. She gawked at the meat, leaning so far over that her chin almost rested on the table. Vladimir kneaded the last of the flesh with his fingers, teasing her.

"You want this?" he swung it in front of her again.

Scarlett nodded slowly.

"Here," he went to hand it to her, but instantly pulled back when she stretched out her hand.

Scarlett almost shouted out of protest. Even more, she wanted to slap him across the face in rage.

"Kiss me," Vladimir ordered her, "then you eat it."

This was demeaning, making her beg for food like this. She wasn't a dog; but she did want it. The only thing standing in her way was him; that was it. And she was not going to let him stop her from getting precious food. She was not going to give up.

She got up to kiss him, swaying a little upon standing. She had never felt this woozy before, like she could hardly walk in a straight line. She rose up on her toes to reach his lips, but he put his hand up to stop her and her mouth collided with his palm.

"I want a _real_ kiss," he smirked. "No quick one."

Scarlett landed back on her heels and let out a little huff before reaching up again to put her lips on his. She tenderly kissed his hard lips, but tender wasn't what Vladimir was looking for apparently and he pulled away.

"You're going to have to do better than that, little girl. Show me how much you want it."

Scarlett could drop to the floor and throw a temper tantrum like a little kid. She wanted to cry. Why was he doing this to her?! It was torture. She hated it! She hated him! She glared at the floor and decided that that was enough. She wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of playing with her and watching her squirm like frightened prey. Not tonight.

 _Fine. He wants a kiss, he'll get the best fucking kiss in the whole damn world!_

She reached out and grabbed the back of his head with both of her hands and forced him to her lips, kissing him hard. She licked his bottom lip aggressively, getting the taste of the meat off of him. He kissed her back with the same amount of force, if not more, and shoved his tongue into her mouth. If this didn't satisfy him, Scarlett didn't know what more she could do. It was the hardest she's ever kissed anyone. It nearly hurt.

Vladimir finally pulled away to take a breath and she immediately latched onto his neck and sucked at it, making sure to get his approval. He groaned, letting her know that she was doing a respectable job. He forced her backwards after a minute or so and rubbed at the hickey forming on his neck.

"Alright, girl, you win. But keep that up for later, though," he let her have the meat with a huge smirk on his face and sat down on the chair.

 _Finally!_ Scarfing down some much needed protein, Scarlett felt triumphant. She _actually_ got him to give her food all by herself. She went on the offensive and was rewarded for it.

She finished the last sliver of meat and, this time, began licking her fingers afterwards. Vladimir watched her intently, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. It tasted so good and who knew the next time she would eat something?

Once she had licked her fingers until they were wrinkly, her head began swimming even worse. She leaned against the table, but that didn't help, so she lowered herself to the floor and sat. She didn't know if she should thank Vladimir for feeding her or curse him for making her drink. She didn't have much to eat, only two small portions. And he made her drink more than she should have and it was causing her to feel strangely tranquil. She decided against telling him anything. She was a prisoner after all.

Vladimir took her arm with a ravenous look, yanking her out of her blurred thoughts.

"Please me tonight and I might be gentle with you later."

Scarlett wanted to crash onto his knee and burst into hysterical sobs at the thought of having to relive the nightmare of last night all over again. One part of her begged for him to just leave her alone. He had done enough damage to her today already, making her yield to him like a canine. The other part of her wanted to grab that whiskey bottle and drink her fears away, to drown her mind and all of her emotions, so that she wouldn't have to feel anything. It sounded like a wonderful idea. There was no other way to escape this hellhole, but she might as well let her mind drift for a few hours, at least.

Scarlett lifted her arm and felt around the table, but couldn't find the bottle.

 _Where is it? Where the hell is it?!_ Her anger grew and she used the table top to heave herself up onto her knees. Her head spun, but she sighed in relief when she saw it. She dragged the bottle to her, put it to her mouth, and downed a shot. She laid her forehead on the wood as the burning liquid descended down her throat once again. She still didn't feel ready to submit to Vladimir yet, so she took another shot. She shivered and felt even hotter, like she was about to break out into a sweat. All she had to do was make him like it. That's all he was asking for. Then he would leave her alone for the rest of the night.

She gave a mild nod to herself and began undressing, feeling the cool night air hit her exposed skin. She stood up to take off her jeans and almost fell over getting out of one pant leg, but seized the corner of the table for support before she could tumble to the floor.

Vladimir softly chuckled at the little mishap. It was cute and comical at the same time. He even went so far as to call her adorable as he watched her strip down to just her underwear and tank top. She could have been one of those lingerie models, like the ones he would see in magazines that were stuffed underneath mattresses or pillows in cabins onboard new shipwrecks.

He patted his lap for her to sit on him. She complied and straddled his lower half in the chair with one leg situated on either side of him. She untucked the front of his shirt from his pants and slid a hand up his chest while she buried her face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. Her flushed face was warm against his skin. She made her way up to his ear and showered it with kisses, making Vladimir slide his hands up and down her bare thighs. He flinched abruptly when he felt something slip into his trousers between his legs and his first instinct was to swat whatever it was away, but once he realized it was her hand, he backed off. He was impressed with her eagerness. She undid his belt and pants and pulled him free, proceeding to stroke him with a somewhat firm grip.

She went right to his ear and whispered, "My name's Scarlett. And I already know yours, _Vladimir_." She tightened her grip even more on him when she spoke his name and he squeezed her thighs harder. He had never asked for her name, not thinking it was necessary, but it was interesting nonetheless. It had a seductive quality to it.

While she busied herself between his legs, Vladimir moved his hands to her hips, clamped onto the bottom of her tank top, and slid it over her head. It was exhilarating to undress her. It wasn't often he got to undress girls, so he wanted to take every opportunity to do so. She kept her face buried in his neck as he reached around her to unclasp her bra. He fidgeted with it, not being used to the damned things, but was finally successful after a few attempts and flung the garment to the floor. He drew her back from him, so that he could fully observe her. His eyes drank in her form as he ran his hands over her breasts, savoring the touch. Her skin was so soft underneath his worn, callused hands. How did she get it to be this smooth? His hands slithered down her curves, her taut and youthful appearance so pure, so captivating. And the fact that she was letting him touch her without so much as a whimper was even better, though there was an apprehensive look on her face as she stared at the candle on the table, like she was trying to shrink under his gaze in embarrassment. Vladimir took her jaw in his hand and forced her to look at him. There was no need for her to feel ashamed. She was wonderful to look at. He pulled her to him and her lips met his. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was intoxicated; exactly what he wanted.

He broke away to hastily rid his upper body of clothes, but the girl still didn't seem to want to focus on him. He grabbed her hands and guided them up and down his tattooed chest.

"C'mon. Play…" he encouraged, nuzzling her neck. Her attention continued to be elsewhere, so he groped her breasts and squeezed them, making the girl gasp. "Keep doing what you were doing, baby," he pleaded with a sigh of longing. "Please me."

She reached for the bottle of whiskey and took another shot. He watched her, taking note of how her throat expanded when she swallowed. She slammed the bottle down on the desk and practically fell back into the crook of his neck to leave a trail of kisses along his collarbone. Her mouth felt succulent; hot and moist. She began to get rougher and started nipping at his skin with her lips, leaving small red marks. He leaned back in the chair in pleasure. He was enjoying her feistiness until he felt something that he perceived was an actual bite with teeth and then sensed the chair falling backwards. He hit the floor with the girl on top of him.

Their eyes locked momentarily. Vladimir's dilated brown eyes gazed right into her wide green ones. He observed utter horror in them. She was expecting him to be angry and to punish her for knocking him over—that much was evident on her face. But had she meant to bite so hard as to hurt him? Was she trying to make a break for it and escape?

"You like to play rough? Or were you trying to bite your way out of this?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

"I…" she shook her head, like she was unsure how to answer. Truthfully, the bite wasn't _that_ hard. It was more of a surprise to him than anything. He hadn't expected her to get so aggressive. If she had really meant to attack him, she would have done worse, he thought to himself. A mischievous grin formed on his face.

"Was it a play bite?" he made a biting gesture at her with his teeth.

"Uh…" she dropped her face into his chest as if trying to hide from him. He laughed at her bashfulness. It was too cute.

"You're alright, babe," he chuckled, petting her head to reassure her. "I like a little bite." His face then grew serious as his pupils dilated even more. "But you have to kiss it to make it better."

He wasn't sure how it was possible, but the girl's cheeks turned crimson when she lifted her head to look at him. Her body was on fire and he sensed the perspiration beading up on her chest as she slid upwards to treat the bite she had given him. He let her apologetically suck on his neck. It made him melt like butter to have those young, tender lips nurture his tanned, leathery skin. But he wanted more, so much more. Her mouth was warm and wet and if it gave him chills from just touching his neck, he wanted to imagine what it would have felt like in another place. Vladimir let out a growl at the thought and abruptly pulled the girl back by her hair.

"Put that sweet mouth on me," he breathed, becoming harder as another wave of arousal came over him in anticipation. The girl immediately dropped her face into his chest and began kissing and licking at his pecs, her mouth gliding over his tattoos and leaving a trail of saliva behind. It felt nice, but that wasn't where he wanted her pretty little mouth to go. He put his palm on her forehead and pushed her backwards until she hovered above the waist line of his pants. She hesitated, her hands balled up into fists to support herself above him. Vladimir didn't like the look in her eyes. It seemed like she was starting to sober up. He reached to grab the liquor from the table and dangled the neck of the bottle lazily between his index and middle fingers.

"You need another drink, baby?" he asked, a grin playing on his lips since he already knew the answer. She hung her head as though in defeat. He twitched with excitement, knowing how close she was to having her mouth between his legs. She gave him a nod of acceptance.

"Well, c'mere," he purred and stretched out his arm to tilt the bottle to her lips to let her drink as though he was bottle-feeding her. She took three gulps before pulling back and sputtering, some of the drink spilling onto his pants. Vladimir pressed his lips into a thin line in mild irritation. She didn't need to be drinking any more if she couldn't hold it down. Alcohol was not something to be wasted in this place.

"No more for you tonight," he muttered, placing the precious liquor out of her reach onto the table. He turned back to her and she was still trying to catch her breath. "Hey," he snapped to get her attention and she jerked her head up, "say you're sorry." He rolled his hips under her to further imply the message. He didn't know whether it was out of stupidity, inexperience, or drunkenness, but he became more bothered when she actually parted her lips to speak.

"I'm—"

"No," he stopped her, " _show_ me." The young girl remained above him, her mouth slightly opened and her eyes darting back and forth in apprehension.

Sitting up more, he began to trail one hand up her torso like a creeping serpent and the other to her face. He stroked her cheek before resting his thumb on her bottom lip, noticing how shiny it was.

"Kiss," he ordered in a whisper. He figured he needed to take a softer approach rather than just shoving her head down on his dick. If he wanted her to be submissive and willing, it was going to take a bit of patience, otherwise she would scream and struggle to get away and then he would have to be rough with her. And not in the fun way. Neither of them wanted that.

He was, indeed, correct about taking it slow. She pressed her lips onto his thumb and gave it slow kisses before he pushed his way into her mouth. She continued to kiss it, making his finger disappear between her lips. Vladimir almost shook when she began swirling her tongue around it.

"Like that, baby. Just like that," Vladimir told her dreamily, nodding his head in approval. But this was taking too long. He needed the warmth and wetness now. He slipped his thumb out of her mouth and moved it down to her chest. "Now, tell me ' _sorry_ ' for wasting my drink," he squeezed her nipple with his wet thumb, making her gasp. Before she could relax her face, he had his other hand tightly clutching the base of her skull where he then eased her head down in between his legs.

Thankfully, she accepted him, but the next question was: has she ever done this before? She must not have because she was timidly giving him kisses along his shaft, not even daring to go near the head. She made him emit quiet sighs, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to ram his cock so far up her throat that she would choke.

"C'mon, give it to me," he snarled, becoming sexually frustrated. His answer to whether she was experienced in this field of work or not suddenly changed as she opened her jaw and took him into her mouth with what he assumed was the furthest she was comfortable in taking him. He let out an audible groan at the wetness, heat, and pressure. He could have cum right then and there, it had been so long since he's experienced pleasure like this. She worked him up and down, gaining speed with every head bob. The slick sounds coming from his cock and her mouth sliding against each other were delicious. It transported him back to a time in his previous life when young prostitutes serviced him. In fact, there were times when he would blow all of the little money he had for just one good fuck; something _, anything_ to get a release from his shitty life.

Vladimir clenched his teeth together hard as he bucked his hips in rhythm with the girl's mouth-fucking. If she didn't slow down, he was going to quickly be driven over the edge, which wasn't what he wanted yet. He intended to drag this out as long as possible and he'd rather cum in a pussy as tight as hers than in her mouth any day. He sensed the feeling of ecstasy coming on and he had to get her off of him.

"Stop," he growled like a wolf and pushed his palm against her forehead, shoving her backwards onto her rear. She wore the look of a kicked puppy, wondering what on earth she had done wrong. Why did she always have that look on her face? She was doing well and he was enjoying himself; something that rarely happened these days. Maybe it was time he did something for her. Everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours was probably still a shock to her and she needed some loosening up.

Vladimir leaned forward to grab her upper arm and she instinctively tried to retreat, but he was much stronger and led her to the mattress, making her lay on her back. He laid on his side next to her and she began to curl in on herself, rolling onto her side and facing away from him. But he gripped her torso and turned her back so that she was lying face up. He laid a hand on her thigh and started going higher and higher until he slipped a single finger under her panties. She bit her lip when he started sliding them down her legs and made a small whimper when they were cleared from her feet. Vladimir laid there, marveling at her naked form. She stared at the ceiling, her breathing prominently faster. He ran his hand back up the young girl's limb until it rested between both of her legs, making her develop an uneasy look.

"Relax," he breathed and began to fondle her, staying on the outside of her vulvar lips. She closed her eyes with an almost pained expression on her face. There was no reason for her to make that look. He was not harming her.

"I said 'relax'," he repeated and ran his finger over her clit, resulting in a cry from her. He pushed a finger inside and she jolted out of reflex. She began taking labored breaths and gripped at the fur of the animal pelts beneath her, as if what he was doing to her was unbearable. Then, he forced another finger in. God, she was tight. She still whined, weakly struggling against him, but it didn't seem to be outright rebellion. It seemed more out of excitement.

"Are we relaxed yet?" he asked in a calm voice.

The girl barely nodded.

"Good," he pulled his fingers out before raising them to his mouth and licking them. He stared straight at her, making her watch him lap up her secretions. She let out another small whimper and closed her eyes to break all visual contact with him. That was when he swore he saw something wet leak out of her eyes. He ceased his actions. Was she crying?

"Hey," Vladimir coaxed soothingly and she slowly opened her eyes again. They were glassy and red.

"It's alright. Don't cry," he spoke softly in Russian, petting her hair. She only gazed up at him with wide eyes, almost like a doll's. She looked…helpless. Weak. Vulnerable. Ripe. And ready. A carnal sensation suddenly overcame him like someone had flipped a switch in his brain. He must take her. Right now. Nature was demanding him to destroy this innocent flower because it was the natural order of things. Purity and innocence didn't last long in this world. It had to be ravaged.

He mounted her delicate frame and, full of raw desire, slurred the words, "I will fuck you like no one ever has."

Vladimir swiftly shoved himself into her, making her yelp and recoil. He found his way to her rosy lips and kissed them a few times before moving to her ear.

"Say my name," he hissed as he thrusted in and out of her.

He heard a faint, "…Vladimir…"

He continued to get progressively rougher, making the girl beneath him cry out. Whether it was out of pain or pleasure, he didn't care. He was a bull in a china shop, programmed to break anything and everything. The muscles in his arms were tightening to continue supporting himself above her. The tension kept building, like a string being pulled tighter and tighter. He was on the verge of climaxing. He was right there. Now, he just needed something to send him soaring.

He yanked on her hair. "Who's in charge?!"

"You!" she shrieked.

"Good! Now, who do you want?!"

When he didn't receive an immediate answer, he wrenched her hair even harder, plucking a few strands from her scalp in the process.

"Who d'you want?!" he repeated.

"You!"

"Say my name!" he ordered again.

She heeded his command instantly, tears leaking from her eyes. "Vladimir…"

"Louder, _shlyukha_!"

"Vladimir!" she cried out.

Vladimir's arms shook as his body became racked with ecstasy. He needed her, all of her; to go as far up into her as nature would allow. He rammed forward and felt a powerful force surge through him, causing him to spill into her, signaling the end of his orgasm. He crashed onto her petite body and laid his head down on her breasts, feeling them rise and fall with each breath. He could hear her small heart beating rapidly. It was probably half the size of his now that he thought about it. He sensed his own heartbeat beginning to slow down now that he was coming off of his high. He raised himself up and smirked down at the young brunette trapped between his arms. She appeared just as weak and helpless as before. It gratified him. He leaned down and nuzzled her neck affectionately.

"You did well…" he breathed in her ear and she shivered. "Have pleasant dreams," he rolled off of her and laid on his back to go to sleep without another word.

Scarlett raised a hand to her face, feeling disoriented about what just happened. But at least Vladimir was done with her for the night and she could get some sleep. She didn't realize how exhausted she was until now.

A chilly breeze came through the hut, cooling her body from its elevated temperature. She went to wrap her arms around herself, but immediately detected something tickling her stomach. She peered down to see loose tan hair fibers that were sticking to her sweaty body. She unclenched her fist and realized that she must have gripped the fur of the animal pelts so hard that she ripped the hairs straight from the dead follicles. She hoped that Vladimir didn't mind. A rumble of thunder sounded through the air outside and Scarlett began to hear the pitter-patter of rain on the old, wooden roof. Her head felt like it was swaying through a raging ocean. A drop of water leaked through the ceiling and fell right beside her. She scooted away from it, only to have another drop land in her hair. She frowned and rolled back over on the mid-sized mattress, bumping into Vladimir. She heard a soft grunt come from his motionless form before he turned away from her on his side.

"Sorry…" she whispered. The air became cooler and she brought her legs and arms closer to her body for warmth. The constant drops of rain leaking from the ceiling and onto her body certainly didn't help either. Scarlett wanted to pull the bed sheet up to her chin, just to have something to cuddle with, but Vladimir had it trapped underneath his body. She couldn't even pull out a small section to cover her legs without disturbing the giant beside her. Not wanting to sleep the entire night uncovered, she scanned the dim shack and saw that Vladimir's shirt and coat were the closest things to her. She stretched to retrieve them, feeling her world violently spin, and then draped the clothes over herself to keep somewhat warm, curling further into a ball to conceal her entire body from the cold of the outside world.

While attempting to drift off to sleep, Scarlett observed Vladimir's bare backside in the candlelight and she did not expect to see such a large tattoo. It was of a soaring eagle carrying a lamb in its talons. She wished that she was that lamb and the eagle would just carry her away from all of this. She was tired. So very tired. She wanted to sleep more than anything and forget about what had happened on this night. Clutching the jacket sleeve in between her breasts, she listened to the light rainfall until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer and passed out for the night.


	9. Day 3: First Light

****A/N:**** ** **Well, I'm happy I was able to post this chapter. There's probably a really good chance that I won't be able to update for the rest of this month, so I wanted to give y'all a big chunk to read to keep you occupied in the meantime. Now, this chapter is longer than usually and it is pretty tiring to proofread, so if you find any mistakes, please let me know. As usual, a special thanks to The Hobbit Diet for helping me with this and to all my readers! Thanks for giving this story a chance :)****

 ** **Response to review from 123:**** ** **I'm not going to spoil the story or anything, but I will say Lara will make an appearance eventually. I'm just not going to say when. Sorry!****

* * *

Once the sky had shone its first hint of light, Vladimir's internal clock went off, telling him it was time to awaken. He sighed and sat up, cracking his back. He had slept well for the first time in ages and felt refreshed this morning. The girl, on the other hand, was probably not faring so well. She was going to have a massive hangover from the amount she drank last night. He turned to his side and looked down at her. She had apparently snuggled up against him during the night as her stomach was nestled against his hip. He saw his shirt and coat on top of her and smiled at the thought of her wearing his large clothes like a tent on her petite body. He swept back her tangled hair, exposing her ear.

Leaning over, he whispered, "Good morning."

The girl didn't stir. A little worried, he put his hand under her nose to check her breathing. Inspecting her more closely, he noticed that she was awfully pale. He didn't think she drank _that_ much, but he wasn't feeling her breath on his hand. A sudden sinking feeling made itself known in the pit of his stomach. Had he killed her? He surely hadn't meant to; a little bit of fun was all he had wanted. The plummeting sensation then turned into one of disappointment. He had finally gotten a good thing in his life and, yet, he still couldn't control himself. He had driven her too far over the edge. Was this what Mathias was talking about when he had said he needed to tame his urges, lest it cause deterioration of his soul and his connection with the Sun Queen? Was the priest actually looking out for him? Vladimir scoffed at his mind for even allowing itself to think that. The old man only cared about himself and only kept everyone around for one thing: complete obedience. And that consisted of everyone being his lapdog and doing whatever he commanded. Many a time, it was killing. Vladimir knew that was why Mathias kept him around for so long. But was that all he was good at? Killing things?

A stream of air hit the back of his hand sluggishly and all of the negative thoughts plaguing him instantly vanished. The girl was alive; just out cold. He ran his hand through his hair in relief. He had been getting himself worked up over nothing. Everything was fine. He was on Mathias' good side, he had a girl in his bed, and held one of the highest authorities on the island. What more could he desire? Well, now that he thought about it, he could do without Mathias altogether actually.

Vladimir stroked the girl's dark hair and began fantasizing, picturing themselves lying in an actual bed in the nicest quarters of the ancient Japanese palace. Their routine would remain the same: he'd wake up next to her in the morning, go to work, discipline the men if needed, come back in the evening, and fuck her until they were both senseless, but they'd have more access to luxuries and wouldn't have to keep their relationship under wraps. Hell, she could even do some chores, such as his laundry or cooking; under his supervision, of course. It sounded like a dream come true; a dream that had a one in a millionth chance of occurring. He pursed his lips and ran a finger across the girl's bruised cheekbone. He was going to have to take it easy on her later. She was probably going to feel like shit when she woke up. But he didn't have time to foster her back to health. There was work to be done. She was going to have to get better on her own. All she needed was sleep. And she was going to get plenty of that. She had the entire day to recuperate.

He grabbed his coat from on top of her and something heavy hit the wood floor. He frowned when he discovered what it was: his pistol. He stopped, realizing what could have happened last night: she could have shot him! He squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled, long and hard. How stupid was he?! Dmitri was right; he was becoming too careless. The girl was a distraction; a pretty one, but one that still made him let his guard down.

Vladimir snatched his shirt from her and pulled it over his head. He paused, thinking. She hadn't killed him, though. Why not?

He grunted and put on his coat in mild irritation. This was too much thinking for early in the morning. He got up and walked out of the shack, taking in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. She had been exhausted last night, he told himself. And drunk. She probably had not had the energy nor the coordination to grab the gun and shoot him. He unzipped his pants and began to urinate absent-mindedly, mulling over the thoughts that were provoking these newfound reservations. Maybe she was too afraid to pull a stunt like that. After all, he was big and intimidating while she was small and defenseless. People fancied the saying "size doesn't matter", but it did. It always did, especially for coercion purposes. He would know, of all people. And if she had managed to harm him and he wasn't dead, he would kill her. She knew that.

On the other hand, however, there was reason for her to be desperate. Three of her companions had been killed and the rest were taken away; probably killed off as well. And desperate people were capable of doing desperate things. He had seen that countless times throughout his life. He remembered back to his first few months on the island, one of the men that he had been shipwrecked with was progressively losing his mind. He was growing stir-crazy and couldn't take the new life under Mathias anymore. Everyone had tried to get him to calm down as he was waving his pistol around frantically. He finally got down on his knees before Mathias and demanded the priest prove the Sun Queen's existence or he was going to put the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. Mathias had ordered Vladimir to execute him. Vladimir circled round to stand right behind the wretched man, but before he could deliver the shot, the Solarii had pulled the trigger on his own handgun. Bits of brain matter and warm blood splattered all over the Russian. It was the first time he had seen someone commit suicide and still remembered it vividly to this day. Desperate people were capable of achieving desperate things.

So, maybe this girl did have the energy to execute him. Maybe she had the potential. But the question that kept eating away at him was: _why_ hadn't she? Was she planning something and just biding her time to make him let his guard down so that she could strike when he least expected it?

He shook his head, somewhat chuckling at the idea as he zipped his pants back up. He was being overly paranoid. That weak, helpless little girl sleeping in the hut wasn't capable of even harming a fly. Her actions and personality just didn't reflect that type of tactic. She was scared shitless of him. He smiled. How could he have been so suspicious? It was ridiculous to be so mistrustful of her, especially after the intimate night they had spent together. He began in search of some food for her. He wasn't going to be able to watch or take care of her every waking moment, but he could help and give her something to eat for when she woke up. Her hangover was probably going to be unbearable and she'd need to put something in her stomach.

* * *

Scarlett's head was pounding. She opened her eyes a millimeter, but squinted when she saw the bright sunshine poking through the panels of the hut. The pain in her head was so great that she swore it was going to explode with every pulsation of her heart. She lazily propped herself up like she would on a Saturday morning and ran a hand through her matted hair. She felt as though she had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler. She had the killer headache, nausea, an extremely dry mouth, achiness, and weakness. What exactly happened last night that would cause her to feel like such crap?

Upon remembering, Scarlett shuddered and a stronger wave of nausea came over her. Good thing she was alone because she was going to vomit at the thought of what happened: that bastard making her drink, him touching her, her putting her mouth on _him_ …She was sick. There was no other explanation for it. No rational person would have ever let it go that far. But perhaps she wasn't rational anymore. It could be that she was losing her mind. Is this what happened to people in survival situations? Did their sense of right and wrong become blurred? Or did they just not care anymore and did whatever they could not to die? What about the others from the _Commendation_? Were they doing whatever they could to hang on and survive? What about Zoey? Was she being—

The urge to vomit suddenly became overpowering and Scarlett gathered her loose hair behind her head and gagged, the queasy feeling powerful in her throat. She gagged a second time and actual contents left her stomach. It didn't appear to be much, only stomach acid. Her head throbbed even more as she strained while dry heaving.

 _It's the alcohol,_ she told herself, wiping her mouth. _That's why I feel like shit. He got me drunk, making things easy for him and to get me to…_

Scarlett covered her face with her hand and began to sob. She had gotten herself so deep into this mess that she didn't know if she would ever be able to recover. She was going to be damaged and broken for the rest of her life. She lied back on the mattress and closed her eyes, breathing heavily. She felt a little better since she threw up, but she could feel a migraine coming on from the excess sunlight and placed her arm over her eyes to block it out. It was all she could do. There was no medicine out here for a hangover. No Tylenol, no Ibuprofen. The best medicine for her was probably sleep. She turned over, away from the rising sun, and went back to slumbering.

* * *

Thirst. That's what woke her next. Her throat was parched and in desperate need of some liquid. The brunette sat up and felt the blood draining through her cranium. Her head began to pound like someone was smashing it with a rock. With sensitive eyes, she surveyed her surroundings and spotted something on the table that she hadn't noticed before. It was small and round. She stood up, but collapsed as the world began to spin. She sunk back down on the mattress while clutching her tender head, whimpering at her hangover.

A few minutes passed and once her vision was somewhat stable again, Scarlett willed herself to move again. She crawled to the table and rose to her knees to grab the object. It appeared to be some sort of fruit. It was reddish-orange in color and only gave a little when she squeezed it, similar to an unripe pomegranate. Had Vladimir brought her this?

She almost couldn't believe that. That would have been—dare she say—thoughtful. It wasn't the greatest gesture of health care in the world, but it showed he was somewhat concerned about her well-being. Or this could have just been a reward for last night.

 _He's only feeding you to make sure you stay alive so that he can keep screwing you. You're his whore, Scarlett, his easy whore. That's all you are._

 _No, no. I'm only doing this until he gives me an opening to escape._

 _Look at how much torture you're putting yourself through, though! You can leave! Right now! You've gained enough of his trust._

 _And then what? Only to be caught by some other sick pig? No. He trusts me. He even went out on his own and got me something to eat. That's gotta mean something, right?_

The plan was working. He was trusting her and she shouldn't try something reckless and screw it all up. She dug her nails into the fruit's skin and tried to peel it, but it was too tough. She raised it to her mouth and bit into it, but the outer layer was bitter and her teeth did no damage. She released a growl and threw the fruit to the floor.

 _Dammit! Food is literally in my hands and I can't even eat it!_

What she needed was something sharp, like a knife. As if she was going to find a knife around here easily, though…Perhaps a sharp rock would do the trick. But in order to obtain one, she would have to leave the confines of her shelter. Was that really the smartest thing to do? What if Vladimir came back unexpectedly, like yesterday?

Her stomach gave her its answer when it rumbled in response.

Scarlett carefully dressed herself, moved the tarp out of the doorway, and poked her nose outside for the first time in over twenty-four hours. She wasn't sure of the time of day, but the sun was high in the sky. She must have slept for most of the morning. Looking in front of her, there was a rock face, to her left was a trail that led off to who-knew-where, and to her right, a drop-off with a view of a rundown village. Looking even further, she could see the vast ocean. The view was breathtaking. The sight of the mountains, greenery, and water would have made a perfect image for the front of a postcard.

Scarlett took one step out of her prison and waited for something to instantly happen.

It was quiet.

She took a few more steps on the trail to her left and saw that it split into a fork, one path uphill and the other downhill. But before she could get on the cobblestone pathway, she heard a voice. It wasn't Vladimir's. And then, there was another. She didn't know the owner of it either. Her eyes widened. She couldn't be seen. She didn't want to imagine herself getting caught and punished for disobeying orders. Her first instinct was to make a bee-line back to the hut and hide in there, but there wasn't enough time. Instead, Scarlett scrambled for cover behind a nearby tree and gripped at the bark with her fingertips, holding her breath.

"This shit is really freaking me out, man. I don't know how much more I can take. Last night was…it was bad. I can still hear her screams in my head."

"That was your first ritual?" the second masculine voice questioned with a hint of condescending amusement.

"Second, thank you very much," the person replied hotly. "And nothing even happened. Again. I don't know how the others keep going through with this. I sure as hell didn't sign up for this shit."

"Mathias has his lackeys wrapped around his finger. I bet if he told them to go kill themselves, they would ask, 'In what way, master'," the second person mocked.

"You guys better shut up before we get back to the village," a third man spoke up, "or they'll kill us for blasphemy. It gives a lot of the guys something to hope for. I mean, what else do we have out here?"

"What? You actually buy into all of Mathias' Sun Queen bullshit?" the first asked.

"Look, I know it makes no sense, but what if it's true? I mean, what about all the stories with God and stuff? None of that makes sense."

"I stopped believing in all that a long time ago," the first said despairingly.

Scarlett peeked around the tree, but quickly moved back when she saw that the three men had stopped walking and were smoking. How long were they going to stay here? Would they find her? As long as she stayed quiet, it would give them no reason to look for her.

The first scavenger started again, "You wanna know what else has been driving me up the wall lately?"

"What?"

"Vladimir and his disregard for the rules. He thinks he gets to do whatever he wants. You know, the first night with that girl I was okay with, but now, he's just hogging her," he complained. "I thought he would let some of us have a round with her, but no. He thinks we're all scared of him, that we can't do shit. I won't rat him out, mind you, because I'm no nark, but maybe I should show him a thing or two; give myself a fighting chance for the lady."

Scarlett frowned at that. Would somebody really "dethrone" Vladimir? Would that even be possible? And if so, what would happen to her?

"You would fight Vladimir? A Russian? A huge, goddamn Russian?" the second asked in disbelief, holding back a snort. "He'd behead you and mount your head on a spike as a trophy."

"Aw, are you scared of him?" the first man mocked.

"No," he answered, "I would just like to keep all my body parts where they belong."

"It's better to not poke the bear," the third added.

"Or, maybe, you two need to grow a pair and stop acting like a bunch of damn pussies. He's only human."

Scarlett heard the shuffling of footsteps again and closed her eyes in relief.

"Well, I'm not gonna be the one to pick a fight with him just to see what happens," the second person spoke, his voice fading away.

Scarlett couldn't discern any more of the conversation after that. Rituals? Screaming? What the hell were these guys doing on this island?! It sounded like they were a part of some religious group, maybe even a cult. And, apparently, not everyone was on board with its rules and beliefs. Scarlett was somewhat perplexed to hear that Vladimir was breaking rules as well. Was he not supposed to be keeping her? Was he supposed to have brought her in with the rest of her crew on that first night? Or was he obligated to share her with the rest of the men? Scarlett's gut clenched at the thought and she half considered that she was going to hurl once more. Vladimir was bad enough by himself; she couldn't imagine being passed around to multiple people and violated day and night. Not that she would want to choose, but she'd rather be with one man versus three or more.

 _Humph, and the winner of the "Not-as-big-of-a-jerk-as-you-could-have-been" award goes to…(insert gasp) Vladimir! Yayyy! Whoop-dee-doo_ , she thought sarcastically.

The mention of this Sun Queen peaked her interest, though. Who or what was it? The men made it sound important.

Checking that the way was clear, she cautiously traveled uphill, sticking along the edge of the walkway. As she went up the path, a bird flew into a bush, making it rustle. She halted and checked the area.

There was no one.

A branch creaked and moaned. Her feet crunched on dead leaves and gravel.

All of these noises made her heart race. If she was caught, it was over. Maybe she shouldn't have been doing this. She should just return to the hut before something bad happened.

Before she could turn on her heel, however, Scarlett's eyes landed upon a rundown, two-story Japanese-style building with a tile roof. The wooden doors gently swung back and forth on their rusty hinges, eerily inviting her in. Not wanting to be out in the open any longer, she went inside.

It wasn't much, to say the least. The building was vacant, save for a big metal crate and a map pinned to the wall. Scarlett went to the piece of paper and carefully removed it, trying not to cause any more tears to the already tattered paper. It seemed to be a hand-drawn map of the island and had big X's in several locations. She began to feel lost. She had a map, but that didn't mean anything if she didn't know where she was to begin with. Maybe there was a legend on the back with one of the X's indicating a "you are here" point. She turned it over. There wasn't. There was a short, simple statement written in charcoal: _No one leaves._

 _Great…just fucking great!_

Tears welled up in her eyes and she slammed the map down so hard on the crate that her hands stung. Here she was, stranded, held hostage, with no friends, and no way out of this place. She leaned over and covered her eyes with the heels of her palms, heaving shuddering breaths. How did her life get so screwed up in such a short amount of time? It wasn't fair! What had she ever done in her life to deserve this?! All she wanted to do was go home!

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Scarlett saw a man through her red eyes and felt her heart stop. She was caught.

It wasn't Vladimir who was standing in front of her, but another man; one she didn't recognize. He was rather large in stature, though not as much as Vladimir, and he had sandy-colored hair with a full beard and sparse age lines on his face. Scarlett saw a pistol cradled in the holster at his hip and a crude-looking axe hanging from his belt. She figured this could go one of several ways: he could bring her back to Vladimir, whom would probably punish her for defying him, he could deliver her to this "Mathias" man, rape her, or kill her. And none of those choices were good.

"Hey, you're Vladimir's girl, huh?"

Scarlett wiped her eyes quickly to disguise the dampness in them. She took a step back, too frightened to respond.

"What are you doing out here? Does Vladimir know? And why are you crying?" he asked, his tone surprisingly calm.

Scarlett sniffled and dabbed at her nose. She looked down at the floor, still too fearful to answer the man's questions. He didn't seem hostile so far. He sounded like he was essentially trying to make her feel at ease.

"I heard you all the way from three doors down last night. Little bit of a noise maker, huh?" he chuckled and Scarlett felt her face turn beet red. "If I was him, I would've had my way with you by now and given you to Father Mathias for the ritual. I don't even know why he's still keeping you around, to tell you the truth. I'd say he's either gone stupid or insane; not that he wasn't before. But it must be worse now."

 _Ritual?_ Scarlett wondered, latching onto the familiar word before she forgot it amongst the man's rambling.

"What ritual?" She tried to steady her voice in order not to sound feeble, but she felt herself being backed into a corner, not at all unlike a mouse before a starving feline.

"Like the one we had last night. For our queen."

"T-the Sun Queen?" Her eyes darted around for an escape route.

"Yeah, that's right. You could be the key to get us off this rock," he took a step forward to shrink the gap between them.

Scarlett took another step back. She swore her mouth has never been this dry before. "What do you mean? Are y'all stuck here?"

He nodded as if he was accepting a hard truth. "Looks like it. What? You don't know? Has Vladimir been keeping you in the dark about our situation?"

Scarlett bowed her head to stare at the rotting floor, giving the man confirmation to his question.

"Well, sweetheart, I'll get you up to date. See that sentence there?" he pointed to the backside of the map that was still lying on the crate and Scarlett followed his finger. "It's true. No one leaves this island. That's why we're all here. We're stuck. The storms keep us trapped."

"Storms?" she asked nervously. What he was saying couldn't possibly be true, right? Was he just trying to scare her?

The rugged hunter took another step forward and extended a bandaged hand, smiling. "If you come with me, I can give you all of the answers you want."

Scarlett didn't trust that smile. Any time the enemy smiled, nothing good ever happened. She had to get away. She could try to run from him when he turned his back on her. But where was she going to go? The hut? It was the only place she knew; unless she could lose him in the woods. It was worth a shot. Her eyes flitted around the room with uncertainty before she timidly walked a couple of steps towards him.

"That's a good girl," he praised, taking her hand in his. "Just come with me and everything will be alright." He led her out of the building and Scarlett tensed her muscles.

When should she run? Now?

They got onto the path, her following close behind him.

How about now?

If she kept asking herself, she knew she'd never do it.

 _Just go, Scarlett! Run! NOW!_

She tore her hand from the scavenger's grasp and took off in the opposite direction, not daring to look back.

"Hey, come back here!" she heard the man holler.

Scarlett never knew she was able to run this fast. She pumped her arms up and down, her lungs working overtime. She completely forgot about her horrendous headache and her sore muscles. Her only focus was on getting away. A gunshot went off and that prompted her to sprint even faster.

She veered off into the forest, hoping to find a large tree to use as cover. She glanced behind her to see how far away the man was at this point, but something snagged her ankle and lifted her into the air, turning her world upside down. Her eyes frantically went in every direction, confused as to what just happened. The scavenger finally caught up to her and laughed when he saw her captured in the snare trap.

"Didn't get very far, huh?" He took out a knife.

Scarlett flailed about, attempting to do anything to free herself.

"If you hold still, I can cut you down." He neared her to cut the rope and that was when Scarlett noticed the handgun at his side. A rush of hope overcame her. She stretched out her arm as far as it could go and snatched the gun out of its holster before popping off a round in a hasty attempt to somehow wound him. The bullet was off-target, unfortunately, and narrowly missed his ankle.

"What the hell?!" He jumped back and slashed her across the face with his blade in defense.

Scarlett felt a horrid stinging sensation and yelped, dropping the gun. She sensed something warm trickle down her cheek.

"You've got some nerve, girl," he tsked while retrieving the gun. "Does Vladimir tolerate that kind of behavior?" He cocked the hammer of the weapon with his thumb before sticking it to her forehead.

Scarlett swore she had just been punched in the gut. All of her breath had suddenly been taken away. "N-no, please! V-Vladimir—" she stuttered.

"He's not here to save you," the man grinned mockingly while shaking his head.

"Don't kill me. Please don't. I-I'm sorry…"

"Oh? An apology?" he teased. "Haven't heard one of those in a while. Too bad. We can't have a threat like you wandering around here…" His finger was wrapped around the trigger.

"No, no…Vladimir! VLADIMIR!" Scarlett screamed, hysterically calling for her captor. If he were to show up right now and save her from taking a bullet to the head, she would probably hug him.

"What the hell is all this yelling about?"

Another person arrived at the scene. Even hanging upside down, Scarlett recognized this tall man's messy hair, long beard, and Russian accent. He was the one that walked in on her and Vladimir yesterday.

"She tried to kill me," the man next to her explained.

The newcomer rotated Scarlett so that he could see her face. His eyes immediately lit up with displeasure.

"My damn brother," he grumbled. Scarlett stared at him with pleading eyes, praying he would bring her back to Vladimir; something she'd never thought she'd wish for in her life. "I swear…" he sighed, brought out his machete, and cut her down. She collapsed onto her shoulder and whimpered. "Get up!" he ordered her.

Scarlett rose to her feet fearfully, sensing the blood flow out of her heavy head. She cradled her arm, unsure of what was to happen next. Being stuck in the woods with not only one, but two, unknown men was certainly not the best place to be.

Then, without any explanation, the Russian man snatched her wrist and began leading her back downhill.

"Wait!" the hunter shouted, running after them for a short distance. "You're bringing her _back_ to him?! What the hell? She could've killed me!"

"Get back to work," he commanded, "I need to teach my _brother_ a lesson."

* * *

As the two of them passed through the rundown village, Scarlett could see the raised eyebrows and shocked expressions on the faces of various men, probably due to the fact she was out in the open and in the hands of someone other than their leader. The large man dragging her angrily stormed up to one of the other scavengers, whom was lounging around and smoking a cigarette with a companion.

"Where's Vladimir?!" he demanded.

"Oh…Dmitri…what're you doing back here?" the worker asked with a hesitant look, casting a glance at the girl and then back at his companion, hoping that the man would provide some kind of assistance for dealing with the angry Russian.

 _So, this guy's name is Dmitri_ , Scarlett thought. Names were always good to know.

"I was going to volunteer on the new wreck again and then I find _this_ ," Dmitri harshly pulled Scarlett forward to show the man. "Is he just letting her wander around as she pleases now?! Is he insane?!" he bellowed.

"I don't know! We've had nothing to do with her, I swear," the man held up his hands, cigarette in-between his middle and index finger. "That's all Vlad. He's at the shrine down that way," the man instantly pointed to his right. "Talk to him about it."

The Russian tugged on Scarlett again and led her into the woods. She felt like a horse being forced to follow its master against its will.

A few minutes later, Scarlett could see a statue of a figure up ahead. It was a faded gold color and the figure was sitting; it reminded her of Buddha. What's more was that it was surrounded by a red, wooden canopy and candles. It really did look like a shrine or a miniature temple. Maybe these people _did_ worship this Sun Queen; maybe they _were_ a cult. The two of them went closer to it and she saw Vladimir, whom was talking to three other men and drinking the leftover whiskey from last night.

"Hey, Vlad, looks like you might have some competition," one of the men beside Vladimir grinned and lazily gestured behind him. Turning around, Vladimir saw the two forms storming towards him.

"Vladimir!" He saw Dmitri and a smaller figure with a mane of dark hair. It was the girl! What was she doing outside? When he saw the fresh wound on her pale face, he became infuriated.

"What the hell is this?! What did you do to her, you animal?!" he shouted in Russian.

"'What did _I_ do to her?!'" Dmitri yelled back in the same tongue. "I found her just as one of your men was about to put a bullet in her skull! And for some reason that only God knows, I've brought her back to you, safe and sound," he mocked in a sickly sweet voice. "You're lucky nobody's gone to Mathias about this yet because you'd be dead by now!"

"Just hand her over and get off my turf," Vladimir commanded through clenched teeth, gripping the liquor bottle in his hand.

"I'm not going to keep covering for you, Vlad," Dmitri warned, not yet willing to release the girl. "Turn her in. You can say you found her in the forest."

"Hand. Her. Over."

"C'mon, I'm trying to save your ass here, brother. If someone squeals on you, you're going to be so fucked. Whatever she's done to have your ear is not worth it. Don't risk your life for this pathetic _whore_ ," Dmitri sneered.

Vladimir suddenly chucked the glass bottle at him and Dmitri went to move out of its path, but he heard a shatter followed by a cry right beside him. The bottle had instead struck the girl against her shoulder and made her go down immediately. Dmitri looked back at Vladimir, whose face was stiff. He whipped his head to glare at Dmitri.

"You made me do that," he growled.

Dmitri narrowed his eyes. "Oh, please. It's not my fault your aim's off when you're drunk."

Vladimir charged and punched him square in the face. Dmitri stumbled a step back in surprise and covered his nose. He pulled his hand back to reveal blood trickling down his finger.

"Bastard!" he shouted. "That's it! I'm taking her to Mathias right now!"

The girl whimpered as Dmitri grasped her wrist and Vladimir's flicker of rage turned into an inferno of fury. He wasn't going to let Dmitri take away the one thing that's been giving him pleasure for the past two days. And he certainly wasn't going to let his "brother" stab him in the back and get away with this act of betrayal. He was tired of the pestering, the mocking, and the threats. It was time to put Dmitri back in his place.

"NO!" Vladimir pushed him away from the girl and delivered a quick punch to his jaw. Dmitri grit his teeth and growled. He swung his arm sideways to hit Vladimir firmly in the temple and made contact. Vladimir bent over and grabbed the side of his own head, trying to alleviate the brutal stinging. He opened his eyes momentarily to see Dmitri about to deliver another blow to his face, but Vladimir stuck his hands out and halted his fist mid-punch. He rose back to his full height and kicked Dmitri's vulnerable torso, sending him a few feet back. Dmitri recovered and charged at him. Both of them grasped each other's shoulders and pushed forward, trying to bring the other down.

Still on the ground where Dmitri left her, Scarlett could only watch in horror as the two men assaulted one another. She could see both of their heels digging into the earth, attempting to overcome the other's resistance. Dmitri began to slide backwards against Vladimir's strength, leaving ruts in the dirt. She wanted to stop the fighting, but that would be like getting in the middle of two sparring bears.

Dmitri faltered for a moment and was tackled to the ground. Vladimir pounced on him and struck his face repeatedly. Dmitri reached up and yanked a fistful of Vladimir's hair, making him stop his blows, and jabbed him in the neck. He got his feet under Vladimir's body and completely flung it over himself with a loud grunt.

Scarlett's jaw dropped slightly at the incredible display of strength. Both of them had to be at least two hundred pounds and to fling someone like that was…astounding.

But just as soon as Vladimir landed in the mud, he rolled back onto his feet. He went to sprint at his opponent to pummel his face into the ground, but before he could take five steps, Dmitri had whipped out a hunting knife.

"Don't come any closer," he rasped in Russian, holding the blade out in front of him.

"Or what? You're going to cut me?" Vladimir nearly laughed. "You don't have the guts. And even if you did, it would take a lot more than that little shiv to bring me down."

Dmitri flared his nostrils and hurled the blade at his opponent's chest. Vladimir moved to the side just in time, scarcely missing the blade's point, and the knife stuck itself in a tree trunk. Was Dmitri trying to _kill_ him? Seriously?

If that's the way he wanted it, two could play that game.

Vladimir wrenched the knife from the tree and slowly turned his head. His scowl was malevolent. "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch," he growled.

"Come on, then," Dmitri beckoned. "Nobody's stopping you _._ "

Vladimir rushed and went to stab him, but Dmitri ducked and shoved his foot into Vladimir's ankle, making him fall onto his back. Vladimir snaked his feet around Dmitri's leg to pull his foot out from under him. Dmitri collapsed and barely had enough time to register what had happened before he had to stop Vladimir from thrusting the knife into his chest. Vladimir was on his knees above him, trying desperately to shove the weapon into him, and Dmitri was pushing back. Both of their arms were straining.

Back on the sidelines, Scarlett was scared stiff. As she watched Dmitri trying his hardest to repel his rival's efforts, she knew that if nothing was done, Vladimir was going to kill him. She looked at the three other scavengers, the ones whom were just standing there from before with Vladimir.

 _Why don't they do something?! Why aren't they stopping this?!_

Dmitri unexpectedly managed to sway Vladimir's might and moved his wrists to the side, making the blade stab the grass. Dmitri swiped at Vladimir's face, knocking him away, and leapt on top of him. They rolled on the ground, getting covered in mud, like kids having a fight on the playground at recess. Dmitri ended up on top and bashed Vladimir's head into the ground repeatedly.

Vladimir finally jerked his knee into Dmitri's groin, making him grunt in pain and withdraw. Vladimir took the chance to achieve the upper hand and rolled him over so that he had the clear advantage and put his hands around Dmitri's throat.

"You will die, mongrel," Vladimir sneered as his hold tightened. Dmitri attempted to pry Vladimir's wrists away, but to no avail.

The other workers, who had been acting as spectators this entire time, seemed to have come to their senses and realized their two superiors were literally trying to kill each other.

"H-Hey…Vlad," one of them called out.

Vladimir was still focusing on the kill. Dmitri was straining to breathe.

"Vladimir! Stop!"

"VLAD!" The third man hurried to the scuffle to break it off, but jumped back as Dmitri had gotten a hold of the broken whiskey bottle neck and slashed Vladimir across the face with it. Vladimir yelled out, cradling his bleeding cheek, and Dmitri kicked him in his diaphragm, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Dmitri promptly stood up and bent over to get him in a choke hold. His arm was set around Vladimir's neck and he pulled tight.

Scarlett could hear her rapist's labored breathing.

 _What would happen if Dmitri killed him right here and now?_

 _I would be free, never to be raped again._

 _Yeah. By him. He's not the only man on this island, though._

 _Oh God, I would just be passed along to some other person! And the next one might be even worse…_

She was just starting to build a connection with Vladimir, even gaining his favor. And all of that hard work, that _trauma_ she went through, was about to go down the drain if he was killed right now. She needed him. She couldn't let him die.

Scarlett took a timid step forward, but hastily retreated her foot when Vladimir jerked his head backwards to bust his opponent's mouth. Blood seeped in-between Dmitri's teeth and he spit into the grass to try and rid the taste from his mouth, but still managed to keep Vladimir in a headlock.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Vladimir taunted between coughs. Dmitri growled and strengthened his hold once more. The resonating sound of Vladimir's pulse echoed in his skull. He couldn't take in any more oxygen. He tugged at the forearm suffocating him, about to pass out, when he suddenly heard a shriek from far off.

"Stop! Stop it! _Please_!" a soprano voice pierced the tension.

It was silent. Even the birds in the trees stopped chirping.

Dmitri bent down to Vladimir's ear. "Oh? So, you've gotten her to fight for you too?"

But a momentary lapse of focus was all Vladimir needed. He jerked his head back to head-butt Dmitri in the face a second time, making the man's gums bleed even more. The sharp pain made him release Vladimir, whom then turned and delivered a forceful punch to his chest, knocking him onto his rear. With Dmitri temporarily on the ground, Vladimir took a second to get air back into his lungs.

Dmitri wiped the back of his hand across his bleeding mouth and sluggishly got back to his feet. "I'm not going to fight you anymore, brother," he rasped. "Turn her in; don't turn her in. Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore. Just keep track of your mess. I don't ever want to see her again," he ended with a huff and Vladimir gave him a scowl as he watched him stomp away.

Scarlett remained in place. She knew better than to approach Vladimir right now. He turned his head to look at her and she wasn't sure if it was anger, humiliation, or confusion that possessed his eyes.

"Why'd you do that?" he gruffly asked.

"I…I…" She wanted to shrink down to the size of an ant.

"Speak!"

"He was gonna…and you…you're all I…have," she mumbled, bowing her head to look at her boots. She was terrified to admit it and say it out loud, but it was the truth. Without him, she had no protection whatsoever.

"Awww, ain't that sweet? She was trying to protect you," one of the three men in the background cooed.

Vladimir shot him a glare and clenched his fists at his side. He may have just finished one fight, but there was no doubt he could take on a second contender. Scarlett, on the other hand, didn't want to see any more violence today. Vladimir needed to calm down.

"Dmitri didn't hurt me," Scarlett whispered, trying to get his mind back on her. He swiftly shoved her to the ground and stood over her like a dominating master disciplining his rebellious pooch.

"What happened?! Why didn't you stay put?!"

Scarlett frightfully kept her eyes on the grass, too terrified to look him in the eye. "Some man tried to take me away," she began, trying not to tear up at his hostility. "He was gonna bring me to someone called 'Mathias'. I didn't wanna go. I called for you," her voice cracked. She began to speak faster in order to get the words out quicker so that he would simmer down. "I ran from him to find you and then got caught in some trap. He sliced my face when I tried to fight him off," she gestured to her cheek for emphasis, "and then Dmitri came and cut me down and brought me to you. I was so scared. That man almost killed me," she curled in on herself and sniffled a few times to keep mucus from dripping out of her nose.

Vladimir took in a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had fucking told the men what would happen if they went looking for her. And then one of them pulled a stunt like this. Vladimir just wanted to be alone now. Almost losing that fight to Dmitri was _so_ embarrassing. Truthfully, if it wasn't for the girl and her distraction, he would've passed out (or even have died) and she would have been on her way to Mathias right now. Vladimir sighed again and dabbed at the fresh cut on his cheek. It was still bleeding.

He reached for the young woman on the ground and yanked her to her feet. He heard the faintest of whimpers and saw her clamp a hand down on her shoulder. He forgot she was hurt; and by him, no less. He leaned down to gently remove her hand to examine her injury with a closer eye. He ran a finger on a medium-sized shard of glass lodged in her swollen skin.

Scarlett winced at the sharp pain, unsure of what he was doing. Then, he quickly plucked the shard out of her without any sort of warning. Scarlett slapped a hand over her mouth. She shut her eyes and bit her lip hard as he removed another one. Though, when she thought about it, the only reason he was hurting her (this time) was because he was _helping_ her. Vladimir was actually trying to take care of her. And she guessed that this was the closest thing to an apology as she was going to get from him. She opened one eye and dared to peer up at his face. He looked back with a neutral expression. Maybe he felt guilty for injuring her.

"Thank you," she whispered. Thinking that he was expecting more than just words, she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his undamaged cheek. Vladimir retreated to reveal a slightly surprised look and Scarlett gave him a shy and gentle upward curve of her lips.

The three workers from earlier were still watching the events unfold in front of them.

"This is too damn cute," one sniveled, wiping away a fake tear. "They're like a couple."

"Maybe we could get another girl from the next shipwreck and make the two of them put on a show for us," the man in the middle joked.

Scarlett felt her face become the color of a tomato.

"That would be the day!" A huge grin appeared on the first person's face at that suggestion.

"But in the meantime, we'll just have to settle for the one. You gonna share your girlfriend with us tonight, Vlad?"

"Yeah, be a gentleman and let us get in on some of that. After all, sharing is caring," the third teased, ogling the young woman, whom moved closer to the Russian for security.

Vladimir turned his head and glared at them with such anger in his eyes, one could swear he was the spawn of Satan. They dared to mock him and even suggest to share _his_ woman with them?! Did they _have_ a death wish?

Scarlett cowered under Vladimir when she heard his breathing deepen. Thankfully, the look wasn't directed at her because if looks could kill, these men would have died twice already. Vladimir moved away to give the men a piece of his mind, but Scarlett latched onto his hand. She didn't want to see anyone else get hurt.

"No. Just forget about them, please. Let's get out of here. I'll help you feel better." The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. What was she saying?!

"Ooh, does she take requests?" one of them asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Vladimir growled and slipped his hand out of her grasp before she could stop him. Scarlett wanted to cover her eyes for fear of what was to come next.

The Russian advanced towards the workers and delivered a punch to one of them in the chest. He threw another punch at the man and then another. He drew his arm across his chest, as if charging a blow, and then swung his fist sideways, slamming it into the man's temple. The worker dropped to the ground, barely conscious.

The second scavenger went to stop his leader before he went on a mad rampage, but Vladimir halted the attack mid-punch, grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it to rotate his victim's entire arm, and brought a fist down upon the extended limb. The second contender went down, writhing in pain over a broken forearm. Before Vladimir could focus his attention on the third opponent, said person rammed him into the mud.

"Yeah, how's that feel?" he taunted, holding his fists up like he was ready to box.

 _Oh, this is not going to end well_ , Scarlett thought with a grave face. She sensed something sinister was about to happen when she saw Vladimir narrow his eyes at the man still standing.

"I'll break your fucking jaw," he growled dangerously, getting back to his feet.

"C'mon! Let's see you try!"

Vladimir rushed forward and struck him in the chest using all of his body weight. He delivered a second brutal punch, enough to disorient a person.

The worker staggered and gasped for breath. Hands on his knees, he glanced up at his leader with an antagonizing smirk. "That's all you got?"

"I ain't done yet, you little shit!" Vladimir grabbed the front of the man's jacket.

The scavenger clenched his teeth and shoved his leader away. He went to kick Vladimir in the abdomen, but the Russian caught his leg and yanked it forward, taking his grounded foot out from under him. Vladimir then pulled on his leg until it dislocated from its socket in the pelvis with a sickening pop.

"AHHH! Oh, GOD! Fuck you!" the man howled.

Vladimir stepped on his victim's dominant wrist, pinning him down. He was enjoying this. He loved inflicting pain, loved using brute force to hurt someone that had crossed him and watch as they helplessly try to evade his attacks. It was what he was meant to do, like an itch he couldn't resist scratching.

"Open up, piss-ant!" he spat at his helpless victim. Vladimir pried the scavenger's mouth open with his hands and pulled the upper and lower jaw apart until another stomach-turning pop was heard. Vladimir released him like worthless garbage and the man whimpered pitifully and touched his jaw. He wailed even louder when he felt it wasn't in place.

Scarlett's eyes were wide. Her captor had just mangled this man! Seeing him throw punches left and right and dislocate body parts with such callousness made her feel like a puny weakling. He could end her life so easily whenever (and however) he pleased. She wasn't fooling around with just some average guy she met down the street. This was a dangerous man, a _murderer_. And it was scary. _He_ was scary.

"You done talking yet?!" Vladimir yelled at the man suffering in front of him. The only response he received was a mixture of screaming and moaning.

Vladimir ensnared both his arms around his victim's neck and jerked upwards towards his chest, popping the inferior man's skull out of place from its spine with a final horrific snap. He went limp like a ragdoll and the Russian stood over his opponent, victorious.

"You two want to say anything else?!" Vladimir questioned the remaining workers, whom were trying to help each other get back on their feet. They shook their heads violently at him. "Good. Now, get lost!"

They quickly retreated, like dogs with their tails between their legs.

Vladimir made his way back to Scarlett and reached for her. She flinched and backed away, deathly afraid he would hurt her next.

"Come. Here!" he wrenched her to him and inspected the cut on her face.

He ran his thumb across her cheek, making the dried blood disintegrate. All she could do was stare at the gashes on his face. He seemed so…content, like the fact that he just assaulted three men and killed one was no big deal. And for him, it probably wasn't. He was a psychotic killer. He's probably been doing this for so long, it had to be like second nature for him. And that's what really frightened Scarlett the most: the fact that he didn't feel any remorse for hurting, or even killing, a person. It wasn't natural. It wasn't human. A question suddenly came to her attention as Vladimir ran his hand through her unkempt hair and pushed it back behind her ear.

 _Would he care if he killed me?_

Her stomach felt like a pit of doom because she knew the real answer to that: _No._

Nevertheless, in some really weird, sick, and twisted way, he did protect her. Dmitri had wanted to take her away. Those men would have made a move on her. But Vladimir stopped them. All of them. It showed that he did care about her to some degree. He acquired wounds because of her, even bled for her. In normal circumstances, she would feel a large amount of flattery if a man would go to that extent to defend her. But these weren't normal circumstances. They were ghastly. She couldn't praise his actions. He was a cruel and barbaric man, who only got off on violence and lust. All she could do in the meantime was keep her head down and look the other way.

"C'mon," Vladimir took her wrist and started leading her through the woods, leaving the dead scavenger to rot on the ground.


	10. Day 3: Dusk

****A/N:**** ** **Hi all, I'm back and ready to continue writing! As usual, if you find any typos, please tell me and I will certainly fix them. Thanks to The Hobbit Diet for helping with this too. It needed a little tweaking. And a thanks to you, reader, for reading :) I'm glad you're still there and taking an interest in this!****

 ** **Warning:**** ** **Chapter contains graphic sexual material. Read at your own risk.****

* * *

The sky was becoming overcast, making the forest seem darker and the air cooler. The further they walked, the more obvious it became to Scarlett that Vladimir wasn't leading her back to the hut. And following Vladimir was no walk in the park. For one, the mountainous terrain was hard on Scarlett's joints. There were hills from where she resided back in Mississippi, but they were nothing compared to the ones she was having to scale now; these were bigger, steeper, more numerous. Secondly, she was so weak from lack of nourishment that trying to keep up with the Russian man seemed nearly impossible. He was taller, more adequately fed, and used to hiking this difficult land, so he naturally wasn't having as hard of a time. Nevertheless, he would occasionally wait for her to catch up had she fallen too far behind. He'd never fuss her, never urge her to hurry along. He would just stand and watch with a neutral expression until she reached his side.

At one point while they were going up a steep hill, Scarlett lost traction in her boot and slipped, but Vladimir immediately spun around and caught her wrist before she could slide all the way back downhill. She released a breath of relief that she didn't have to scale the gradient a second time.

Sometime later, Vladimir dropped down from a small overhang to land on the ground some seven feet below. When Scarlett came to the same edge, she instinctively backed away. She peeked down at the Russian, whom merely stared back at her before he held out his arms, offering to catch her. Cautiously, Scarlett sat down with her feet dangling over the edge and pushed herself off. Not sure how she would land, she closed her eyes and waited for the impact, but she felt herself collide with another body. Vladimir had caught her by the torso and bent his knees to absorb the impact. Realizing she was unhurt, Scarlett straightened up. He kept his arms around her in an embrace and peered down at her dark head. She stared at his chest, wondering if she should thank him. He didn't have to catch her, but he chose to and it was considerate of him. A nod was all she gave him.

Hiking on further, she had to swat at a few mosquitoes, but they weren't as irksome as the ones back home, which were present for most of the year in the thousands. She distinctly remembered when her dad would take her hunting early in the morning when it was still dark outside and the mosquitoes would nestle their way right into her ears. Their buzzing sounds were a high enough pitch that she would whimper and clamp her hands over her ears at lightning speed, wanting to cry. It was enough to drive a person insane. And she would still be affected by them even after she escaped the woods when she came home with dozens of bites on the surfaces of skin that had not been shielded by her clothes. But at least she wasn't being eaten alive by the little blood-suckers at the moment.

The scavenger and young woman then came upon an enormous tree that had fallen over and barricaded their path. Vladimir crossed the giant trunk with ease, putting his hand on the bark and vaulting over it. Scarlett likewise approached the log, but was puzzled as to how she would cross it. The tree trunk came up to her chest. Vladimir gazed at her from the opposite side and cocked his head, anticipating her move. Scarlett clumsily lifted her leg into the air to try to wrap it around the trunk, as if she were mounting a horse, but it only resulted in her falling on her rear as her balance became uncoordinated. Vladimir smirked in amusement before offering his hand over the log to assist her. Getting back on her feet, she warily grasped the hand with a tight grip and, with a sharp inhale, sprang up while Vladimir pulled her towards him. Bark scraped her clothes and boots as she twisted her body so that she could slide across the tree. She swung her legs to land back on the ground and stood in front of the scavenger. She gave him another nod in thanks.

"No problem," he smiled and ruffled her hair playfully, continuing on. Scarlett frowned and smoothed her hair back down, scampering after him. At least someone's mood had improved. She'd rather be around a happy Vladimir than a pissed off one.

The sound of running water was within earshot now and Scarlett was getting more excited with every step they made towards it. Her tongue and throat were dying of thirst and just the thought of moving water made her want to squeal with excitement like a kid getting exactly what they wanted on their birthday. They came to a clearing with a small waterfall rushing over a stone ledge and a pond at the bottom. Scarlett wanted to run past Vladimir and just start drinking straight from it, but suppressed her desires by clenching her teeth together. It killed her to wait. To prevent her face from outright glaring, she scanned the rest of their surroundings. The place was pretty secluded, like a little sanctuary in the middle of the forest. She wondered if this was a secret place of his; a place where he could relax without being disturbed.

Vladimir motioned for her to come closer to the pond and tilted his head towards it. Scarlett looked at the water, furrowing her eyebrows, and then back at him.

"Clean yourself up," he told her and wandered a few feet away, presumably to keep watch.

Scarlett called out after him, "What about you?"

He didn't give her an answer.

Scarlett knelt beside the pond, cupped her hand in the water, and drank the miniscule amount of liquid her hand provided. She repeated the motion over and over again, losing track of how many times her hand dove into the pond. She hadn't drank anything since the previous night and what she did have was firewater: something that made her even more dehydrated. Actual, cool water felt so refreshing going down her parched throat. It tasted like heaven. Next, she wet the dried blood on her face and proceeded to carefully scrape it off with her nails. A diluted red color began dripping into the pond. She also cleaned her bloody shoulder, wincing whenever she aggravated the deeper gashes. It was a shock to her how something as simple as water could send her nerve endings on fire. Moments passed and her shoulder didn't look as serious; only small cuts were present now. She splashed water on her face and peered at the waterfall, letting the drops cascade down her chin as she went into a trance. Something inside her wanted to run away right now, to cross this pond and bolt into the forest until she could no longer hear Vladimir yell and curse. It'd be so easy. Freedom was staring right at her.

 _But it'd be so stupid._

It wouldn't take long for him to catch her, especially in her weakened state. And he would shoot her or punish her in some unspeakable fashion, like breaking her limbs; just as he did to those men a few short hours ago. For now, she'd just have to continue to suffer until…something happened, some miraculous opportunity presented itself.

 _But what if that moment never comes? Things don't just fall into place, you know that._

 _You're going to have to make it happen. You're going to have to take the initiative. Right now, just…lay low. You'll be okay. I promise you'll be okay, Scarlett. You've survived this long._

She sighed and stood up, dragging her feet to go back and stand at her captor's side.

"I'm done," she mumbled at him.

He looked down and shook his head disapprovingly. "No," he placed a hand on the back of her shoulder and turned her to face the pond again. "Clean up."

"But I di—"

"Clean _everything_ ," he pointed his index finger up and down at her body.

Scarlett flared her nostrils and inwardly grimaced. He wanted her in the pond, to see her in the water completely naked, as if taking a bath. Sure, the pond was one of the closest things to having a bathtub around here, but this felt…perverted, like she was being filmed for a porno or something.

Vladimir huffed in annoyance and gave her a push. "Get in there."

She pivoted to look at him once more, but his back was to her as he continued to keep watch. In all honesty, she did feel grimy. She hadn't cleaned herself in three days. All of the salt, sand, debris, sweat, and other…unmentionable bodily fluids were still on her. She was able to smell herself and it was pretty rank. How Vladimir was able to tolerate it was beyond her. Well, he didn't smell all that nice either. Personal hygiene was obviously not a priority for him. But she still felt uncomfortable stripping in his presence, even with his back facing her. Whenever he looked at her, it felt like his eyes burned into her very core; and that was not even taking into consideration the wanton glances he would cast her way every now and then. Nevertheless, she didn't want to make him angry in any sort of fashion, especially after witnessing him kill a man with his bare hands. She would make it quick. She'd quickly undress, get in the water, clean herself as best she could, get out, and put her clothes back on before Vladimir turned back around. She usually loved taking showers, but this was not the time nor the place to relax and let the water soothe her body.

Checking that the man still had his back to her, she quickly stripped off all her clothes, tossed them in a pile on the ground, and stepped into the water to get her feet wet. It was chilly and she hissed. She glanced behind her one more time to make sure Vladimir was still facing the other way and then stared back at the water. She frowned and forced herself to wade further in with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, covering her chest. She felt the cold suck the warmth right out of her blood and it didn't take long for her to start shivering. Once she reached the middle of the pond, Scarlett began vigorously rubbing her body up and down with water. Dirt and grass particles that once clung to her body were now floating on the water's surface. What she wouldn't give for a bar of soap right now! Once she had declared she was clean enough, she turned around with the intention of quickly exiting the water and rushing back into her clothes, not even caring if she was dripping wet, but Vladimir was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes darted around and she could no longer feel her stomach.

 _Okay, where is he?_ _He wouldn't leave me out here alone, right?_

She sank neck-deep into the water and retreated towards the waterfall to hide, terrified that some random man or wild animal was going to stumble upon her and attack. She was so vulnerable right now, anything could take her out. She was abruptly stopped by something warm behind her. Her heartbeat disappeared altogether as she feared the worst. She whipped her head around to see Vladimir in the water as well, stark naked. Scarlett brusquely retreated, splashing water everywhere in the process, and forced herself to keep her eyes on his upper half, on the waterfall, on the trees; anywhere but _there_. Her face began to feel like it had been in an oven again, like she could bake cookies on it.

Vladimir laughed at her scarlet cheeks. "Like what you see?"

Scarlett instead focused on the water ripples and felt a chill rush through her. She hugged her torso even tighter, desperate for warmth.

Noticing her shiver, Vladimir held his arms out to her. "C'mere."

Scarlett didn't move. Although he was well-built with broad shoulders, sufficient muscle tone, and defined abs (certainly a body any superficial girl would drool over), she didn't want to be right up against him. He was a dangerous man.

"C'mon," he insisted and chuckled, " _He_ doesn't bite. You know that."

Scarlett didn't think her face could get any hotter, but her body seemed to prove her wrong. Her face had to be the color of a beet now. She stared hard at her feet at the bottom of the pond while Vladimir only snickered. He was making fun of her shame, her humiliation, and her drunkenness from last night. How had she thought pleasuring him was acceptable?! The truth was, she hadn't been thinking. She was just _doing_. She had been so drunk off her ass, she could barely see straight. Maybe if she had just drank a shot or two more, she wouldn't have even remembered it. He beckoned her towards him again and Scarlett tentatively moved closer. Just being mere inches from him, she could feel his warmth radiating off of him like a furnace. She hated it. She hated that she was so cold and he was warm, like nature was telling her to fall into the arms of the Devil. It was sickening. And he didn't seem the least fazed by the water's cool temperature, which made it even more sickening.

 _You can't reject him, Scarlett. Remember the plan: lay low and play along with him. Act like you like—no—act like you_ _ **love**_ _him. Put your head on his chest. Do it!_

She lowered her head in an almost robotic fashion until it came into contact with his chest. She could hear a faint thumping. Was that...was that his heart?! This man, this monster, had an actual, beating heart. Even though he was a deranged sociopath and completely insane, vile, and boorish, he was still a man; still a human being. He had emotions: happiness, sadness, anger, confidence; just like any normal person. Perhaps she could soften his demeanor. He could change, right? She could crack his hard shell and reveal the gentler side of him; maybe even sway him to change his crude ways or, better yet, get him to let her go.

Scarlett blinked hard as her gut sank at the opposite possibility, the one that was more likely to be a reality: he was too far gone, stripped of his humanity and left with nothing but raw instinct. So much for foolish wishful thinking…

Her eyes wandered upward. She felt so small in his clutches, being only five and a half feet tall, while he must have exceeded six. Judging by his calm and rhythmic breaths, he seemed pretty mellow at the moment. It could have been the water having a soothing effect on him or maybe it was the alcohol from earlier.

Probably the alcohol.

But perhaps she should take advantage of the current situation and try to talk with him, gain some information; though she would have to choose her words carefully. This would be the first real conversation she would have with the man and she certainly didn't want to set him off.

"I wanna…say...thanks again…for...earlier," she told him, feeling like she had to force every word out of her mouth.

He grunted in what Scarlett understood as a "you're welcome" while taking a portion of her hair and examining how all the wet strands clung together. Silence hung in the air.

 _Talk about him, Scarlett. Talk about him._ After all, that had been Zoey's advice for her when talking to guys.

"Where're you from?" Scarlett wondered. This felt so awkward.

Vladimir tilted his head to the side, taken aback by her curiosity. His first instinct was to tell her Soviet Union, as he had lived there throughout all of his youth, but he caught himself. Things had changed there a year or two before he left.

"Russia."

 _Knew he was from there_ , Scarlett thought in a small victory and paused before asking another question. "What's it like there?"

Vladimir immediately frowned. He didn't care to talk about his homeland. Everything in that country had been crumbling to shambles when he had left. The economy sucked, the leadership was a joke; and that was just to name a couple of the things that were wrong. Vladimir, himself, had taken up a life of a criminal at an early age, doing illegal jobs on the black market, which included thievery and murder, and wound up in jail on more than one occasion. Least to say, that life was chaotic. He always had to look over his shoulder and sleep with one eye open because he never knew whom he could trust. His current life, however, was more…stable, if he could call it that. He possessed a leadership position, higher than he would have ever assumed in his previous life, and got to pummel anyone who defied him.

When Vladimir didn't offer her an answer, the young woman lifted her head from his chest and observed his slight frown. She also took note of his swelling cheek, the one that had several gashes going across it. She raised a chilly, trembling hand to the inflamed lesion and carefully wiped the dried blood from it.

"Won't you tell me something about it?" she beseeched.

He winced from the stinging of her wet hand to his delicate wound and she quickly retreated her hand like a frightened rabbit.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shrinking back.

He caught her wrist and brought her hand back up to his face, leaning into it, like a cat wanting its owner to pet it. Taking that as permission to resume what she was doing, she went back to cleansing his cheek and then the rest of the dirt from his face. Eventually, her thumb landed on his bottom lip and lingered there. She seemed to freeze in place, as though she was unsure of what she was doing. She hastily pulled her hand from his mouth and averted her gaze to the pond's edge. Vladimir's eyebrows knitted together. Why did she keep pulling away? What she had been doing was rather nice. He took her by the chin to make her look at him again and leaned in for a kiss.

His touch was tender and the force of the kiss was firm, yet gentle; very surprising to Scarlett. Maybe in a different life where he wasn't such a ruthless man and a few years younger, she might would've found him attractive. But she could never enjoy any part of him. That was made clear to her on her first night with him. Vladimir withdrew from her lips and Scarlett grabbed his hand, interlocking her fingers between his as a way to keep the moment intimate. She had to at least act as if she liked him and was grateful to him. She laid her head back on his chest and squeezed his hand. Her fingers practically looked like those of a child's compared to his giant ones.

"So, who's Mathias?" she changed the subject, hoping he would give her an honest response.

"He's in charge," Vladimir stroked her breasts slowly with his fingers, watching water droplets slide between them. Scarlett folded her lips inward to keep herself from emitting a shudder. She wanted to wrench his hand away and twist his wrist so far the wrong way that it'd break.

Attempting to ignore the disgust and keep the conversation going, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "But I thought you were?"

Vladimir clarified, "He's in charge of _everything_ here."

"Oh…"

Her eyes went to the tattoos on each side of his lower abdomen. They looked like full-armored medieval knights that were on horseback and possessed lances. She traced one of the spears with her index finger. Even though some of her friends back home had tattoos, Scarlett never closely inspected nor touched one in her life. She'd thought it would've been socially unacceptable or even rude to ask. Her attention wandered to Vladimir's left inner forearm. She curiously took it in her grasp and exposed another tattoo of a naked mermaid caressing her long, flowing hair. She gawked at it like a curious child. It seemed like an odd tattoo for a man to have. It was feminine, delicate.

Vladimir watched her carefully examining his body. He wondered what was going through her mind. Would she ask him about his markings? Where he got them? When he got them? What they represented? He'd rather not say…

"What's this ritual that people keep talking about?" the girl wondered instead.

Vladimir narrowed his eyes at the question. How did she know about the rituals? He hadn't uttered a single word about them to her. Exactly how much had she learned on her little outing today? What had the men told her? He suddenly felt protective and didn't want her to ask any more questions about it. He'd rather not think about her undergoing a ritual as harsh as what Mathias called for. No, she was too precious for that. Actually, he wanted her to stop asking questions altogether. She was asking too many, ones that didn't concern her. She was here for him and that's all she needed to know.

The girl dropped his arm into the water and pressed another question.

"Why don't you tell me anything?"

Vladimir snaked his hands to her rear. She was certainly talkative today.

"Because you're my little _shlyukha,_ " he answered in a husky voice, watching her eyes steadily grow, "and all you need to know is that _I fuck you_."

Scarlett didn't have time to take a breath before he pushed her down by the shoulders and forced her under the water. The cold was like a million daggers stabbing her at once. Vladimir kissed her roughly, but she hurriedly ripped herself from him to resurface and gasped for air, coughing up water. He simply waited for her coughing fit to cease, finding her unpreparedness entertaining.

Vladimir returned to her lips hungrily and pushed her to the edge of the pond, mud smearing across her back. He seized her legs and wrapped them around his waist, then proceeded to grope her breasts, his large hands encompassing them completely. She wanted to recoil, but there was nowhere to flee. It was like he was suffocating her with his body and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic. She couldn't get out. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't do anything. She was stuck like this until he backed off. She wanted to scream.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore and was prepared to push him back in defiance, Vladimir tore away and released a forced sigh, as if displeased. What was it? Did he sense her intentions? Her rebellion? Scarlett's eyes were wide as she waited for him to say something. But his attention appeared to be elsewhere.

Timidly looking up at him, Scarlett whispered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he huffed, moving away from her in annoyance.

Scarlett had no clue what the problem was. Did he see someone in the forest spying on them? She whipped her head around and observed her surroundings, but there was no one. Was something else bothering him? Was she not doing something right? Hopefully, whatever was wrong wasn't her fault.

Vladimir ran a hand through his wet hair and it fell into the water, making a brisk splash.

"What is it?" she quietly asked again whilst taking a step towards him. Vladimir glared and splashed water into her face, wanting her to stay back. Scarlett halted. Seeing him angry was probably the scariest thing on Earth right now. But not knowing what he was angry at was just as terrifying. If she made a wrong move or even a peep, he'd probably shove her head underwater and drown her right then and there. She didn't doubt that for a second. She watched him standing there, saying nothing, as if the problem he was having was internal. Was he having second thoughts about holding her hostage? Did he realize what he was doing was wrong? Was he finally battling immorality?

It was none of those things.

Something felt amiss for Vladimir. It wasn't as thrilling this time. He was having difficulty becoming aroused and it was deeply bothering him. Why was this happening now of all times? How many lonely nights had he spent fantasizing about this type of situation and now that a beautiful woman was here in the flesh, his body decided that it didn't want to be in the mood. This was hurting his pride even more than Dmitri suffocating him. He knew the girl wouldn't laugh at him even if he told her what the problem was, but it would probably deteriorate the image she had of him. He cursed his maturing body. Damn being middle-aged! He was determined, though. He would get there. He just needed the right turn on. His hand traveled down between his legs and the girl immediately diverted her gaze.

Scarlett avoided looking in that direction, but from the general area, she got an idea of why he was frustrated. It was something she did not expect, but he wasn't exactly young in age either. He had to be _at least_ fifteen, if not twenty, years older than her; late thirties, probably early forties. It had to be embarrassing for him. A lot of the male psyche depended on ability to perform and for a man that couldn't, it had to be one of the most humiliating things to admit, especially to the opposite sex.

All of a sudden, Vladimir directed a piercing stare at her and Scarlett felt everything in her stop: her breath, her heart, her brain activity. She sensed something bad was about to happen. What kind of twisted, evil, disgusting thing was he going to do to her this time?

He gave her a command. "Touch yourself."

Scarlett knitted her eyebrows together. What did he just say? She stood there, feeling similar to a student that was called out to write a problem on the board in school without knowing how to solve it.

"W-what?" she stuttered as she picked at a loose piece of skin near her thumb nail.

"Do it," Vladimir ordered.

"I…I don't—"

"Do it!"

Scarlett winced at his vehement tone. A sharp pain shot through her thumb and blood began pumping its way into the water as she had ripped the skin off of her finger.

"Now!" he shouted.

She carefully put her index finger between her legs under Vladimir's penetrating gaze, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame. This was humiliating, making her fondle herself for his own sick pleasure. She couldn't decide what was worse: him touching her or him ordering her to touch herself while he watched. She was shaking so badly that she couldn't feel what she was doing. It made her even more uncomfortable when Vladimir began stroking himself. The sight made her lightheaded. She couldn't look at him. She tried to focus on the leaves in the trees to battle the tears gathering in her eyes.

"Do more, _shlyukha_. Enjoy it," he demanded.

Scarlett cautiously slid her finger inside. It felt strange. She closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn't do this. She pulled out, but that only made the Russian more irritated.

"Did I say 'stop'?" Vladimir narrowed his eyes. "Get back in there before I shove my whole fist up your pussy," he threatened.

Scarlett shuddered, desperately fighting the urge to crumple to the ground and bawl her eyes out. Reluctantly, she put her finger back between her legs, but couldn't bring herself to do anything.

Her unwillingness only served to irritate him further. "Goddammit, start fucking yourself!" he spat.

Scarlett merely stood there, frozen with fear.

 _Scarlett, come on! Do it!_

 _I can't. I can't! I can't do this!_

 _You better do it or he's going to fucking KILL you, you hear me?!_

Scarlett cowered at that dominant voice in her head. She hated it, but she knew it was right. Vladimir would kill her if she didn't do what he said. She clenched her jaw as she moved her finger around and dared not to look at the menacing man in front of her masturbating. She didn't want to see him enjoying this, so she closed her eyes and tried to picture herself somewhere else. Anywhere but here. All she could think about was her old boyfriend, Justin. It was true, they never had intercourse, but that didn't mean that they were never not intimate with each other. Most of the time, it was just kissing and petting. He had even given her a hickey once. A couple of times, they had gone to "third base", with her giving him a blow job, him fingering her, and both of them dry-humping each other until they climaxed. She would often daydream about the way he made her feel, usually before she went to bed at night or in the morning after she had just woken up. And right now, that's all she let herself think about: she and Justin, alone, in her room at night. Even though they weren't in a relationship anymore, those were some of the more pleasant memories she had with him. He had made her feel so good.

Scarlett was suddenly ripped from her happy place by a force crashing into her, knocking her onto her front. Her gut had that sort of pain she would get whenever she performed a belly flop into a swimming pool. It ached and she felt like she couldn't take a full, proper breath. She sensed a ginormous weight mount her backside and immediately opened her eyes. The thought of this huge man on top of her in this position made her feel like an animal, as this was the way horses, lions, and wolves procreated. There was nothing intimate about the connection at all; just pure sex. She squirmed and made an attempt to crawl out of his grip, but he gathered her hair into a ponytail and leant towards her ear.

"Back home," Vladimir gruffly spoke, "we were taught not to smile as children. You know why?"

Scarlett pulled against the vice-like grip he had on her hair and whimpered. She could feel his member just centimeters from her entrance. She didn't care in the least bit of what he had to say. She wanted out. She wanted this to stop.

"Be still!" Vladimir curtly wrenched her hair to the side, stopping her attempts to struggle against him. She had wanted to know something about Russia, so he was going to tell her. "They told us that only fools smile for no reason," he said, becoming sufficiently aroused at seeing goosebumps arise on her skin at his words. "Or it meant someone had something to hide…"

A thought suddenly struck him. The girl beneath him had given him a smile when they had first met. And several times since. Why? Why has she been acting so friendly towards him? It was not the norm for most people, let alone women, who became shipwrecked here. Was she hiding something from him? Plotting something? An escape? His murder? Why else would she be staying with him for this long? All of these questions made Vladimir feel threatened, much like this morning when he pondered her loyalties. It was very possible that she was able to concoct such a plan and betray him. And what Dmitri had said to him yesterday about her having the potential to kill only intensified the paranoia. What game was this little girl trying to play with him?

He yanked her head backwards and questioned, "Are you hiding something from me?!"

"No! No, I swear!" she cried, grasping fistfuls of mud in her palms. He was trying to sniff her out like a bloodhound, trying to detect any hint of betrayal.

"Are you a fool?!"

"No!" She could barely shake her head from side to side due to how much force he had on her scalp. She sounded so pitiful and had tears in her eyes. He decided that there was no way she was lying to him. If she was, she would have already confessed by now.

"Damn right you're not. You're a smart, little _shlyukha_. And you'd know what would happen if you tried anything. I would have to kill you. You know that, right?"

"Yes," she gulped, shaking from head to toe.

"Good, because you wouldn't be as fun if you were dead."

He shoved his way into her harshly, making her release a yelp. Scarlett shut her eyes and tensed every muscle in her body, hoping that it would somehow turn him off. But it didn't seem to make any difference. She balled her hands into fists and dug her nails into her palms until they stung, hoping that it would take her mind off of the pain between her legs, but it hardly seemed to have any effect. She wanted to pass out, even give her life away to not feel this rough man inside her anymore, hurting her. Right now, it felt like she was in an eternal blazing pit of hell without any way out. She could try with all her might to claw her way out until she had no more fingernails, but every thrust of the brute on top of her was like mockery, scoffing at her for even thinking she had a chance.

"Say 'yes' to me," he breathed in her ear. "I like it."

Scarlett could feel a cold sweat develop on her back between their bodies. "Yes…" she whispered, trembling.

"Again," he groaned.

Scarlett whimpered, "Yes..."

He smacked her ass. "You like that, huh?"

She responded with tears, her face buried in the mud. "Yes."

He pounded into her mercilessly, breathing heavily. "You're really turning me on, baby. Say it to me over and over. Loud and proud."

Scarlett cried "yes" again and again. She hated it with all of her heart, but if it meant that he would finish quicker and leave her alone, then she'd do it. When Vladimir performed his most forceful thrust yet, it made her squeak the word like a wounded mouse, and he began to ride out his orgasm so hard that she thought he was ravaging her insides. It was horrible, but it meant that it was almost over. He would get off her soon.

Once Vladimir had had his fill, Scarlett felt weak. She had been pushed so far into the ground that she just wanted to become one with it now. He slid out of her and rested his head on the back of her left shoulder, attempting to catch his breath. She jolted when a shiver came over her and in response, he nuzzled her shoulder blade with his nose. He gave her a brief, gentle kiss on the back of her neck before lifting himself up and off of her. Scarlett instantly felt the warmth from his body disappear and the dampness from her wet skin and hair gave her another chill. She turned onto her side, getting covered in even more grass and mud, negating why she went in the water in the first place. She curled into a ball, hating herself for turning into this…this whore. Something she would never be able to undo. Death felt preferable now. Then, at least, she wouldn't have to feel like a piece of shit anymore. She wouldn't be trapped. How could she make it happen, though? A gunshot to the head? Strangled? Beaten to death? Vladimir could carry out any one of those deeds.

But then, another thought began to tug at her heart. Scarlett thought of her mother. She could imagine the woman receiving the news of the death of her daughter and covering her face while sobbing hysterically into her hands as she collapsed to the floor. It would have been the news her mother had dreaded all along. She had told Scarlett the research trip was too dangerous. And what did Scarlett do? She shrugged it off as usual because her mom was a huge worry wart. But she would have been the reason for making her own mother, the woman who gave birth to her, fed her, clothed her, and loved her with all of her heart, cry. It hurt the young girl's heart. Fresh, hot tears slid down Scarlett's cheeks and onto her hands. No parent should ever have to mourn the death of their child. And what if they didn't even have her body to bury because it was stuck here on this shitty island and rotting in these godforsaken woods? Oh God, that was a seriously morbid thought. Yet, not unrealistic. Nevertheless, she didn't want her family, her mother, to go through that psychological trauma. She wanted to make it back to them, to let them know that she survived; that she would come home. Scarlett squeezed a fistful of mud in her hand and felt it ooze between her fingers. She would make it home.

* * *

The sun had gone down and night had taken over. Vladimir glanced to his right to see the girl was still over by the pond. She had been in that spot for what he speculated to be an hour now. Whether she was sleeping or not, he didn't know. Vladimir raised an eyebrow in amusement, thinking that if she were asleep, he must have really worn her out.

He fed a small fire with kindling and stared deep into the yellow-orange, flickering flames.

Fire. The girl would have been destroyed by it. Mathias would have wasted a perfectly good fuckable girl. It was either that or he would've sent her to the dark walkers. That would have been an even bigger waste. He preferred Nikolai's idea about new female survivors more. The men should be able to fuck one of them when they felt the need. It'd make this place a lot more bearable. And even though he would never admit it to a soul, he missed human affection sometimes. Gentle words, soft touches, light caresses, passionate kissing...those were nonexistent here; unless someone swung the other way, which a fair amount of men have since converted once they realized they're trapped here forever. Having some sort of attention from a woman on a regular basis would be a pleasant change from the usual life out here, which left no room for mushy feelings. Everyone was always so fixated on survival, on work, on escape, there wasn't much leisure time to focus on feelings. But at the end of a hard day's work when there was time for relaxation, it was loneliness that consumed the men the most. How many times had he, himself, lain looking up at the ceiling of the shack at night desperately wanting a warm female body to be curled up next to him and keep him company? Countless times. There have been a few women on the island with which he did have his way, but they were always taken away from him in the end. But now, he did have one. He could have those mushy feelings again. And having those feelings felt like he was doing more than just surviving. It felt like he was almost living normally again.

Vladimir heard the sloshy sound of grass and saw the girl coming towards him, head down and arms crossed over her chest. He could see the fatigue in her legs as she walked. She sat down in front of the fire, opposite of him, drew her legs to her chest, and let her chin rest on her knees. With a blank stare, she gazed into the flames, almost as if in a trance. Her pale face made the circles under her eyes seem even darker, almost black. Overall, she appeared dead. There was no emotion in her eyes; no fear, no fiery spirit. Nothing. Just…dullness.

Perhaps he could liven her spirits. Women supposedly loved complements. Vladimir crawled over to her and gently tucked some of her damp hair behind her ear.

"You're the best I've had in years," he purred.

Scarlett flinched from his touch and whipped her face away from him. What was he trying to do now? Sweet talk her?

"You're pretty," he continued, combing his hand through her hair, "and you don't put up any fights. No one has stayed this long. They always fight back. But you don't. I like that."

Scarlett's skin crawled at his words. What was she supposed to say to something like that? He was completely insane. Who knew how many people he's killed throughout his life? He himself had probably lost count a long time ago. And God only knew how many women he's raped. And then killed once he was done with them. There was something wrong with him; with his head. He must have some kind of disorder; a violent one. He thought all of his crimes were nothing. And out here, on an island in the middle of nowhere, it was true. They were nothing. Nobody was going to come and arrest him for his wrongdoings. He was free to do whatever pleased him. And Scarlett couldn't combat that. Not without a weapon, at least. So, if she stuck with her plan of being loyal to him, he was bound to slip up after some time, right? He would leave an opening, an opportunity, for her to gain the upper hand and escape. She prayed that opportunity would be sooner rather than later, for who knew what other disgusting, perverted things he was going to do to her or _make_ her do? And after witnessing how his mood could change at the flip of a switch, his temper—God, his temper—and what he could do with that rage, she best play it cool for now; unless she wanted her neck broken.

Scarlett finally looked back at him and saw that he was gazing at her affectionately. She leaned into the hand still stroking her hair and closed her eyes, hating herself. A nauseous feeling slowly crept into her throat like a slimy, horror movie monster climbing its way out of a sewer as she had to force the words out.

"I like to please you."

Vladimir smirked at those words. It felt complete: she was under his absolute control. She was here to stay. He rewarded her with a lovely kiss.

Scarlett could hardly kiss him back. She still felt queasy from what she had just said and prayed that she wouldn't vomit into his mouth.

He finally pulled away and Scarlett mentally released a sigh of relief. She watched him as he laid down on his back and placed an arm under his head to gaze at the sky.

Scarlett peered upwards as well. There were millions—no, billions—of stars that lit up the night sky. She mistook a few twinkling ones for airplanes, but remembered where she was when she noticed that they were staying stationary. There were no planes here. No planes, no civilization; just cruel Mother Nature. On the other hand, without any city lights, the sky was beautiful; almost divine. It looked like it could appear on the cover of a _National Geographic_ magazine. It made her situation seem less grim. Her family was under the same sky, the same stars.

 _Only separated by an ocean, thousands of miles wide._

 _God, Scarlett, don't think like that. They're under the same sky. If you look at it from the perspective of the universe, you're not_ _ **that**_ _far away._

 _Pshhh…_

Scarlett laid down on her side and put her arm under her head for support. A slight breeze came through and she brought her limbs closer to her core. Her teeth chattered for a second and Vladimir turned to look at her softly.

He grabbed his coat, making sure to remove the pistol from the pocket first, and draped it over her body. The girl eyed him with uncertainty, as if he were an alien from another planet. Most people wouldn't think it of him, but he could be considerate. It wasn't often and he knew that, but he could be. Ever since he had taken this young woman for himself, she was his responsibility. He was the one that needed to take care of her. How else was she going to survive out here? This unforgiving island would make a meal out of her within a day. He moved closer until he was right up against her and put his arm around her waist to provide even more warmth.

The coolness of the leather coat had made Scarlett colder, but once Vladimir had gotten closer, the warmth increased. She loathed that. His jacket reeked of body odor and the man himself didn't smell any better than when he had first gotten in the water. She thought about slipping out of his grasp once he was asleep just so she wouldn't feel like she was being smothered the entire night. But she wasn't sure if he was a light sleeper or not. What if he woke up? Would he think she was leaving him? He seemed paranoid about that issue earlier, so she probably shouldn't risk it. As she laid there, wrapped in the clutches of a lecherous murderer, she hoped that a time to flee would come. It had to. It just…had to. She didn't know how much more of him she could take.


	11. Day 4

**A/N:** **Okay, I apologize for how late this came out. I meant to post this sooner, but I had gotten sick and didn't want to do _anything_. So, to make up for it, I made this chapter super long. Okay, I also didn't know a good place to divide this without leaving some parts hanging, so that's why I just rolled it all up into one. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! Thanks to the The Hobbit Diet for beta-ing and I want to wish a Happy New Year to everyone! :)**

 **Disclaimer: I haven't written one of these since the first or second chapter, but I don't own Tomb Raider. I only own my OC, Scarlett, and I write all of this for the fun of it. And it's extremely fun!**

* * *

Vladimir woke first the next morning. He inhaled deeply and raised his head to see the orange sun just starting to creep over the horizon. He glanced down at the girl ensnared in his arm and she was sound asleep. He'd rather not wake her. She looked so peaceful when she slept. In fact, since they were out here in the middle of the forest with no one around, what would be another hour of sleep? He rarely got in that extra hour that he always craved. The men in the village would get to work without him; or, at least, they had better. They'd probably have their own guesses as to where he was and what he was doing right now. He laid back down on the grass and closed his eyes again, as though he had just pressed the snooze button on an alarm clock, defiant to get out of bed.

* * *

 _"_ _Vladimir! Stop it! Just stop it! Please!"_

 _"_ _I've missed you, though. And you've become so beautiful," Vladimir told her, going for her neck again. It had only been two years since he had last seen her, but she seemed to have grown up so much in that little bit of time, blossoming into a gorgeous eighteen-year-old with her round face, large doe-like eyes, and elegant neck._

 _She leaned away from him. "But I'm your_ _ **sister**_ _! Don't you know how wrong this is?!" she cried, on the verge of tears._

 _"_ _No one's going to find out, dear Anya," he caressed her cheek in an attempt to reassure her._

 _She slapped his hand away. "Go to hell!"_

 _Vladimir shoved his sister down on the bed, shaking the mattress. "You will respect me, wretch. I was put in charge when Father died. Don't make me hurt you again."_

 _"_ _I wish you would," Anya hissed. "Then, I could turn you in and you'd go back to prison where you belong! I'd never have to look at your face again!"_

 _Vladimir leaned over her threateningly and put a hand around her neck. "You better shut your fucking mouth. Nobody would believe you anyway."_

 _"_ _Go ahead! Do it! And then we'll see who's right!" she spat._

 _He growled and stormed out of the bedroom into the living area, slamming the door behind him. He had just been released from prison yesterday and this is how she welcomed him home?! With coldness and disrespect? And since when has she been so vocal about her feelings? Last time he had seen her, she was a meek, little mouse that wouldn't have dared to challenge him. Now, she was voicing her opinion, cursing him, and slapping him like he was the Devil. How had she grown so bold?_

 _He scowled when he conjured up an answer: the neighbors. The goddamn neighbors have been putting these ideas in her head. Since both Mother and Father had died, the neighbors had been looking out for her, taking her under their wing, teaching her how to be independent. And probably telling her what a bad influence he was._

 _He opened a bottle of vodka taken from the cabinet and took a swig, glaring into the busy streets of Omsk out of the fifth-story window of the apartment complex. Khrushchyovka, that's they called this pathetic excuse of a building. It was too cramped and everyone lived on top of one another. The kitchen and bathrooms had to be shared with every-fucking-one on the same floor. Personal space was a thing unheard of. Luckily, all of the neighbors were currently out and about for the time being. Vladimir put down another shot and heard crying. Great, the bitch was crying again. What was it this time?_

 _He slammed the bottle down onto the end table in aggravation, walked back to the bedroom, and threw the door open, ready to yell his lungs out. But what he saw had him taken aback._

 _Dark maroon blood was gushing from his sister's wrists and trickled down a pair of scissors clutched in her hands. No. No!_

 _"_ _What did you do, you bitch?!" He slapped her across the face, making her fall from the bed to the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he began advancing towards her. She slinked closer to the wall in sync with his every step, cowering in fear of his rage. "I'm home one day and you already want to kill yourself?! Am I that horrible to be with?! I'm the only family you've got left and this is how you treat me?!"_

 _She was stopped by the wall behind her and held onto the bloody scissors, as though they would defend her. He stood over her and snatched the tool from her grasp._

 _"_ _I'm not going anywhere, you hear that?" he pointed it at her face. "You're mine and you will stay with me like you're supposed to!"_

 _Anya curled up into a ball and sobbed uncontrollably. Vladimir was just like their father whenever he used to drink. It usually turned into a screaming match between their parents until one of them left the room, their mother crying or their father downright livid. On more than one occasion, both children would hear their parents arguing in the next room after they had gone to bed and then a slap would echo through the room. This was usually followed by silence and then quiet sobbing. That was when Vladimir would come over to Anya's cot and "comfort" her. The memories made her shudder. His lips on hers, her cheeks, her chest; fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties...And it wasn't like she could go to her parents for help. They had enough of their own troubles. So, when Vladimir had finally been sent to prison on account of thievery two years ago, she had begun to heal little by little. But now that he's returned, it was like taking ten steps backwards for her. She didn't know if she could cope with his advances again._

 _"_ _I hate it when you're like this…" she sniffled, her eyes glued to the floor._

 _"_ _Like what?!" he seized her forearm and got in her face. "You think this is angry?! You think I'm angry?! You haven't seen_ _ **angry**_ _!" Vladimir stuck the blades of the scissors back into her wound. She wailed out in pain and he stopped. "Do yourself a favor and do a better job next time if I'm really so hard to be around," he scoffed and chucked the scissors off into a corner._

 _He turned on his heel to leave her in a crumpled heap of blood and tears, but he heard her soft voice whisper, "Maybe you'll do better next time too…"_

 _Vladimir instantly spun around. "What was that?!"_

 _Anya stared down at her slashed wrists, too frightened to look at him._

 _"_ _Don't be shy. Out with it!" he trudged closer to her._

 _She narrowed her eyes. "You heard me. Maybe next time, you'll finish what you started and just kill me so I can be done with you."_

 _Vladimir stared at her coldly. "Why would I do that?"_

 _"_ _Because I can't do this again!" she exploded. "I can't deal with you anymore! How am I supposed to find a husband or have a life if you never leave me alone?! When you're here, I feel like I'm on a leash. I'm not allowed to go out by myself, I can't have friends, I can't do anything but stay here while you run your filthy hands all over me and rape me!"_

 _Vladimir viciously seized her delicate neck with his masculine hand. "Don't test me. Stop. Talking."_

 _"_ _No! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you! I'm not your property," she screamed at his face and ripped his hand away from her. "So, either you leave or I will," she began walking towards the living area, but Vladimir pushed her back against the wall._

 _"_ _And go where?! You have nowhere to go!"_

 _"_ _I'll move in with the neighbors permanently! I'll go anywhere, anywhere where you're not!"_

 _"_ _You'll do no such thing! I won't allow it!"_

 _"_ _Then I'd rather be DEAD!"_

 _Vladimir banged the back of her head against the wall. "You take that back," he growled. She was pushing him closer towards the edge._

 _"_ _If I have to live with you for the rest of my life, I'd rather you fuck my corpse every day. At least I won't be there," she sneered, her voice dripping with venom._

 _He smashed her head back into the wall, making a small, round indentation in it._

 _"_ _How dare you," Vladimir narrowed his eyes. How could she disown her own brother?! Even prefer death than be with him?! That was a stab to his heart because she was all he had left in this world._

 _"_ _Leave," Anya told him with a cough. "Someone will be back soon."_

 _"_ _No. You don't tell me what to do."_

 _"_ _Get. Out."_

 _"_ _I'm not leav—"_

 _"_ _Get OUT!" she screamed and slapped him across the face. Total shock came over him as he put his hand to his cheek. He looked at her and there was also a bit of shock in her eyes from what she had just done, but the main emotion displayed on her face was determination. She had meant it. She had meant to slap him and she wasn't sorry for it. That made his blood boil and his temper flared like a roaring fire. He rammed her into the apartment wall for a third time and pressed on her windpipe, constricting her airway._

 _"_ _You're a downright bitch, you know that?!" With each word, his strength increased. "Any woman would be lucky to have me. And they'd show me some damn respect, unlike you with your smart mouth." He continued to squeeze and squeeze, despite her face turning purple. She grabbed at his face, trying to harm him in any way possible, but he pinned her arm back. He bashed her head again, making that indentation turn into a hole in the wall. She choked, unable to catch her breath. Her eyes were turning glassy, as if she were about to start crying. "Don't think you have any kind of say on what I can or can't do. I'm the one in control of this family."_

 _He banged her head into the wall again. "I have the power."_

 _He did it again. "And if I want you to stay here and love me, then you will stay here and fucking love me!"_

 _He rammed her into the wall a final time and Anya went quiet. Her neck slightly lolled against his grip. Her eyes were motionless. They didn't try to find a route of escape. They weren't even filled with fear anymore. Vladimir released her and her entire body fell to the ground with a thud. He was waiting for her to have a coughing fit, but she was just…lying there._

 _What…happened? He furrowed his eyebrows and nudged her with his foot._

 _Nothing._

 _"_ _Anya!"_

 _Silence._

 _"_ _Get up!"_

 _He waited for even the slightest moan or whimper, but there was no response._

 _"_ _ANYA!" He kicked her in the gut and chyme emitted from her mouth, but she was as limp as a doll. Was she…was she dead? No…she couldn't be! He hadn't even been choking her THAT hard._

 _"_ _Goddammit! Look what you fucking made me do!" Vladimir cried. "This was your fault! Fuck, this was all your fault!" He kicked the body again. "All your fucking fault…" He groaned, crashing onto the bed and covering his stinging eyes. He hadn't meant for it to go that far. His head was spinning as he stared at the empty husk that was her corpse, taking note of the blue and purple handprints that were emerging on her neck beneath her dark, flowing hair. The neighbors would check up on her soon. He had to get out of here. He shot up from the bed and headed straight for the front door, only to find that the door knob was already rotating to the side. Oh, no. They would see. They would know it was him. They would—_

* * *

A crow cawed like an alarm clock, startling Vladimir from his slumber. His eyes darted everywhere to search for the damnable thing that woke him. He looked in the tree above to see the black bird and growled. Damn bird! He would have shot at it, but he didn't want to wake the girl beside him.

He dragged his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes with a fist. He had that dream again, that damn dream. Why couldn't it have been a different one? Any other one? It still tugged at his heart, thinking about the murder of his sister. Of all the murders that he's committed in his lifetime, that particular one still gnawed at that shred of humanity in him. He had loved that girl with a passion. But it was her fault for pushing him too far. She had it coming. She deserved it.

He glanced down at the young woman snoozing beside him. What did it matter now, though? He had found someone to be with, someone he was fond of. And she was fond of him. Albeit, she wasn't the most beautiful female he's ever seen, but she was pretty enough. He favored her dark hair and innocent face. Craving to see more, he slowly lifted his coat from her naked figure and simply appreciated what the storms had brought him. Just seeing her fleshy appearance made the blood in his body course a little quicker. She had a delicate frame, which made overpowering her all the more thrilling. Her breasts were lovely, though a little small for his liking; not that he was complaining. His eyes drifted down her torso and he frowned upon seeing her slightly exposed ribs. He should probably feed her more. He placed his fingers on her ribcage and traced the bones down towards her center.

Scarlett frowned at a tickling sensation in her sleep and opened her eyes with heavy lids. She looked down to see Vladimir's fingers on her waist and knitted her eyebrows together in worry. She turned her head to look at him and he stared back. She returned to watching his fingers. There they were, just lying there like he was petting a companionable dog; man's best friend.

Scarlett heard him release a sigh and then felt a squeeze, followed by a slap on her rear end. Vladimir stood up and ordered her to do the same. He began to put on the rest of his clothes while Scarlett sat up. She squinted at the bright sunlight and rubbed her eyes. Never in her life was she a morning person. To her, that was the worst part of the day because the sun would usually only get brighter and the air hotter. She rose to her feet and a sharp, deep pain suddenly struck her side. She physically flinched and bent over slightly, grabbing at her waist. Had she slept in a strange position? Or was this probably from hunger since she hadn't eaten anything in two days? All she could do was ignore it for now and pray that she would get some food later to curb the pain.

She proceeded to get dressed and was putting on her pants when she began to see stars in her peripheral vision. Oh, no. She feared those dots, feared the sensations that accompanied them. They usually came if she worked too hard without eating enough food or if she had gotten an injection or done blood work at the doctor's office; pretty much anything that involved needles. This was not the time to become lightheaded. She blinked hard, desperately hoping the colorful dots would disappear, but they continued to remain like unwelcome guests. Then, to make matters worse, they began to multiply. They clouded her entire field of vision and she felt compelled to close both of her eyes, as if that would make her feel better. A cold sweat erupted on her back and the strength in her legs began to wane. She had to sit down before she actually collapsed.

Vladimir must have seen her trying to recline back into the grass because she sensed his large form approach her side and felt his hand wrap around her slender arm impatiently. She could tell that he ordered her to do something (most likely stand), but her ears were ringing so much that his voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel.

 _Just breathe, Scarlett. You need to breathe._

The colorful stars and the high-pitched note in her ears began to fade, much to her relief. Scarlett opened her eyes, feeling drenched in her own sweat. Just as she was feeling proud of herself for not fainting, out of nowhere, a hard slap swiftly came across her face as though she had been struck by a switch.

"What was that?!" Vladimir demanded. His voice wasn't fuzzy-sounding at all this time.

"I…" Scarlett gasped and gingerly laid a hand on her face, struggling to find words. She was still in shock that he slapped her so harshly for merely sitting down. Should she just tell him that she wasn't feeling well? Would he even care? Whilst trying to make a decision, she was not unaware of the newfound pain that was now pulsating in her cheek. In fact, it motivated her to voice her condition. Perhaps he would lay off the abuse if he knew that she wasn't starting the day off too well.

She began, "I don't feel—"

"Get. Up!" Vladimir pulled her up by her arm and pushed the ball he had made out of her clothes into her abdomen. She watched him as he went to wash his face in the pond, still feeling the sting of his slap like a knife that had cut clean through her cheek. He did not care how she felt or her well-being, and at that, she wanted to cry. God, she wanted to cry so badly that her eyes burned. All he wanted was her warm body to sleep next to and fuck every night. It stung, especially since she tried to get him to open up last night and actually have a conversation.

Once his face was cleared of any dirt and left-over sleep, Vladimir grabbed the rifle that was lying on the ground beside the burnt-out campfire and eyed her with impatience. Scarlett stared back at him with her bottom lip poking out in despair. Why did he have to be so cruel? Why couldn't he have just given her a little lenience for once?

Vladimir motioned his head towards the forest, indicating for her to follow. Rolling her lips inwards and biting them hard, she hung her head low and trailed behind him, her morale at an all-time low as they made their way back to the mountain village.

* * *

As Scarlett trailed behind him, she could feel just how weak she was. She thought yesterday's walk to the pond was difficult, but this one was damn near impossible. It made her realize that within a night, her condition had worsened. Her knees were quivering under her own weight; and that was when she was standing still. Her stomach growled along the way, yearning for anything that would grant her calories. She prayed that Vladimir would slow down enough so that she could catch her breath, if only for a minute, but he wouldn't. His stride was at least twice as great as hers since he was so tall. Scarlett was afraid those stars would reappear in her vision for a second time. Looking down at her feet, she kept telling herself to put one foot in front of the other. She would make it wherever they were heading, which she guessed was back to the shack where she had stayed before; the place with the mattress. Ah, the mattress: that giant cushion that barely supported her weight and kept her from sleeping on the hard ground. The thought of crashing onto it made her put a little more pep in her stride. The faster she walked, the sooner she could rest.

They were getting closer to the village now because they had finally reached the cobblestone pathways and the ruins of other huts. It was almost like stepping back in time to a simpler age, when people lived off of the land and in makeshift houses. She had now considered electricity to be a luxury. What she wouldn't give to take a hot shower and eat a hot meal right now! Voices yelling and shouting in the distance made her snap out of her fantasizing, however. Vladimir sped up even faster, leaving her in the dust. Scarlett hurried after him, feeling much like a foal having to trot every few seconds to keep up with its mother.

When they reached the top of the hill, they saw a group of scavengers surrounding a red Japanese-looking archway. One of the men had a noose fastened around his neck and another man was holding the opposite end of the rope arranged over the archway. What the hell was going on? A public execution?

Vladimir suddenly came to a halt beside a tree, making Scarlett nearly run right into his back. He removed the rifle from his shoulder with a sigh of relief, which didn't go unnoticed. Had he been in pain all this time? Scarlett's eyebrows came together when he leaned the gun against the tree and turned to her.

"Wait here," he ordered in a strict tone, pointing to the ground. She said nothing in reply, only nodding. He turned his back on her and approached the crowd of people from behind. He pulled out his pistol, raised it to the sky, and fired a shot, startling everyone. Once he held all of their attention, he shouted, "What the fuck's going on here?!"

One person pointed his thumb over his shoulder, "This asshole thinks he owns the place! We finished the bridge yesterday and he's still goin' around tellin' everybody to fork over their rations like he's the king or somethin'!"

The captive behind him shouted, "Oh, piss off, you dick wad! There's always more work to do and Vlad put me in charge whenever he's not here." He looked to Vladimir for validation. "These bastards wouldn't get off their lazy asses and work this morning!" He went back to eyeing the crowd with rage. "You don't work, you don't eat!"

Scarlett observed Vladimir bring his hand to the back of his neck in an attempt to massage himself. Obviously, he was not in the mood to deal with rabble-rousing this morning. He had been nasty to her ever since she woke up and then he hadn't uttered a word to her until they had arrived here. What was going on with him?

Vladimir switched to rubbing his temple. With a flick of his hand, he ordered, "Just fucking hang him."

Everyone cheered as the person was lifted from the ground. He began screaming, dangling by the rope around his neck.

Under the tree, Scarlett's jaw dropped in horror. Perhaps the man had abused his power, but she didn't think that he deserved to be hanged. He didn't deserve to _die_. She felt pity for him as she watched him attempt to gasp for breath. His face began to turn red and then purple. She wanted the rest of the scavengers to stop this, to let the man go free. She would have even tried to stop it herself, but the men would just shove her back for trying to interfere. She had no say-so in this. Unless…

She glanced down to her left. The rifle stood there, leaning against the tree. Maybe she could shoot the rope.

 _Pshh, what are the odds of that? You need to grab that gun and run like hell! Screw this guy, he's the distraction you need to get out of here!_

But she had to do _something_. He was choking, his face was blue now and his legs continued to run in place.

But her guise of being a helpless, little girl would be blown. Everyone would know that she knew how to use a firearm. And she had a feeling that wouldn't sit too well with Vladimir.

 _Scarlett, a man is DYING for Christ's sake! You need to, at least, try to stop this! You couldn't stop Vladimir from pummeling those guys yesterday, but you can save this one. You know it's the right thing to do! It may be suicide, but it's the right thing._

Scarlett pathetically huffed at her predicament: she could try to shoot the rope and risk it all or she could run and leave the man to die; like a coward. But really, who was she trying to kid? She was a coward. She had been too afraid to run all this time and she had let Vladimir, this monster of a man, do whatever he wanted with her. And he was just going to keep dragging her lower and lower into the metaphorical pits of hell until she was no more than an animal with a corrupted mind, same as him. But by that point, why would she still even want to be alive? So unless she did something bold right now, she was going to end up as a slave for the rest of her life. And that was not acceptable to her. This fear and hesitation she kept experiencing needed to stop. She had to make a stand. She knew she was going to have to break away from Vladimir sooner or later. Maybe that time was now.

Whether or not she was about to dig her own grave, Scarlett grabbed the rifle. It felt a lot heavier than the last time she held it. She brought it up to her uninjured shoulder (she was right-handed, thankfully), looked through the scope, and lined her sights up. The struggling man looked like he couldn't hold on much longer. His face was a sickly bluish-purple now. Scarlett grimaced. This was going to be loud. And what if she missed? He would still be fighting to hold on to that last smidgen of life.

 _Just shoot! Shoot now before he dies!_

Scarlett shakily let the air rush out of her nose at a furious rate and when there was nothing left in her lungs, she squeezed the trigger, spawning a loud pop.

All of the scavengers' faces fell when they saw a gunshot had penetrated the man's forehead.

"What the hell just happened?" one asked, very confused.

In the shade of the tree, Scarlett's face drained of color. Her stomach plummeted to her feet. She dropped the rifle as she began to tremor all over. She didn't even feel the gun crush her toes in her boots.

 _Oh, God…no. I just…killed someone. I…Holy fuck, I just killed somebody! I was trying to save him! I didn't mean to…Oh, God!_

What had she done?! She had taken the life of another person. She! Scarlett Glockner! Scarlett Glockner, the girl who felt guilty if she didn't feed her dog on time, had just murdered a living person! She couldn't believe it. It was a complete accident, of course, but still…He was alive a few seconds ago and now he…wasn't. Murders that she had seen on television shows, in movies, and video games were nothing compared to this. Those were fake. Reading an obituary in the newspaper or attending a funeral were a little sadder than the media entertainment because those were about a real person who led an actual life. Witnessing a murder (or multiple murders) as she had done in the past couple of days was enough to give a person PTSD for the rest of their life. Actually _committing_ a murder…Oh, God. She was going to hell. There was no doubt about it, even if it was an accident. She could never take it back, could never undo it. He was gone forever. She couldn't believe how effortless it had been too; just the squeeze of a trigger. All she had to do was make a small pulling motion with her finger and she had the power to kill. She had taken animals' lives before, but this...this was a lot different.

"Hey…did she…did she kill him?! She's got a gun at her feet!" another scavenger pointed an accusing finger at her, snapping her out of her traumatic trance. The rest of the men turned their heads. Some pulled out their weapons and aimed them at her. She shook her head in shock, mouth agape at being on the receiving end of bows strung with arrows, pistols, and assault weapons. She had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real. She was outnumbered at least fifteen to one.

Scarlett saw Vladimir storming his way back towards her, mumbling profanities under his breath. Oh no. He was coming for her. He was going to punish her. She had killed a man and now she possessed a weapon. Wait, this was it! Time for her to do what she's been dreaming of for three days now!

Suddenly fueled with newfound adrenaline, Scarlett retrieved the gun at her feet and readied it quickly. She didn't want to have to pull the trigger again, but if Vladimir was going to come after her, she wouldn't have a choice. She pointed the muzzle at the Russian and gave him a hard look, her jaw clenched.

Vladimir halted when he saw the firing end of the rifle aimed at his chest. He glared at the girl through narrowed eyes, unable to believe what his eyes were seeing.

"Drop the gun," he ordered in a low voice. She kept a tight grip on the firearm and didn't move. "You hear what I said?!" he shouted once more. "Drop the gun and get ov—"

"Oh, c'mon, Vladimir!" somebody groaned in annoyance. "Just go up and take it from her. She's not gonna shoot. Look how scared she is. She's bluff—"

Scarlett shot at the ground between the man's feet, making him jump back and fall on his rear end in surprise. The others around him recoiled as if a snake had been thrown at them. She cocked the weapon again and firmly held it against her shoulder. Proving that she wasn't totally clueless when it came to guns, the men hesitated to open fire. She could shoot any one of them next.

Scarlett backed away slowly. Her ears were still ringing from the first gunshot. Vladimir took a step towards her and she retreated further.

"Stay. Back." She could hardly hear the words leaving her mouth. A part of her was screaming at herself, demanding that she heed Vladimir's orders lest she wanted to greatly suffer. What the hell was she even doing, going against him? It felt wrong. But the other half of her knew that obeying him would get her nowhere. She shouldn't listen to him. She bit her lower lip, trying to stop the tears from gathering. She didn't want to kill him. He may have done horrible things to her, but she didn't want to kill anybody again. She couldn't turn into a murderer. Not like him. That kind of guilt has already cut too deep into her heart.

She continued to back away, but Vladimir had had enough of this. He pointed his pistol at her and aimed right for her head. Hopefully, it would be enough to scare her into surrendering.

"Drop the gun, _shlyukha_."

The girl shook her head and sniffled, like she was about to cry. He knew that she was scared to death. And she had every right to be because he was going to chastise her like she had never been chastised before if she didn't do what he said.

"I said 'drop the gun'!" he shouted.

"No," she whispered so quietly that he could barely hear her.

Who the hell did she think she was, defying him like this?! Has she lost her goddamn mind?!

"Now!" Vladimir gripped his handgun hard. She only continued to stare at him, like a deer staring back at a hunter through the scope, daring him to shoot.

With a snarl, Vladimir finally pulled the trigger and Scarlett swore she felt the wind of the bullet graze her hair. She froze in total amazement. It had been so close, just a couple of hairs from piercing her skull and killing her instantly. There would've been no way she could have stopped it if he was on target. She wanted to shout for joy because she narrowly escaped death, but there was no time for a celebration. It was time to run!

Scarlett turned on her heel and began to descend down the hill as fast as she could. She heard Vladimir bellow out another curse and then a second gunshot went off. She flinched as some bark off of a tree shattered near her.

 _Faster!_ she commanded her body. She needed to run faster, to get away and never see any of these monsters again.

Something suddenly struck her backside hard and the surprise of pain made her lose her footing. She tumbled down the steep hill, rolling through the grass and dirt. She veered off to the right and crashed into a fallen tree branch about as big around as her wrist. Her side and back exploded with pain, but the collision did not bring her to a halt. She attempted to stop herself from rolling away any further by grabbing onto a few spare branches lying on the ground, but none were strong enough to stop her momentum. The way her vision kept going round and round in circles looked like that of a movie that was filmed with a shaky camera.

A few seconds later, a tree large enough to have its roots visible above the ground was ahead and Scarlett stretched out her hand to latch onto one of its wooden extensions. She kept sliding down until her grip prevented her from descending any further, though she was pretty sure her elbow popped from the sudden jolt of her weight coming to a complete stop. She breathed heavily as she grabbed at her backside. There was a tender spot in the lower region. Someone must have thrown a rock or something at her to make her fall because if it had been a bullet, she absolutely wouldn't be able to move right now. She went to stand up, but pain exploded through her body.

Shouts and hollers weren't that far behind. Would the men bring her back to Vladimir or just shoot her? Or…would _they_ do things to her?

No, none of that must happen. She had to keep going.

She crawled to the tree trunk and embraced it to pull herself up. The screaming was much closer now. Scarlett saw one of them sprinting towards her with a machete and that was enough incentive for her to keep running.

She dashed further into the forest, breathing so heavily that she felt like a horse with a bad case of the heaves. Her lungs burned. She couldn't outrun these guys forever. She needed to find a place to hide. Checking behind her, she saw no one and dove into a nearby bush. She curled into a ball and hugged her rifle to her chest like a frightened child clutching a teddy bear.

A few seconds later, men's charging footsteps came to a slowing halt. Scarlett backed further into the bush as they stopped right in front of it.

"Damn! How far did she go? I thought we had her. It looked like she could barely walk."

"Yeah," another said, hands on his knees and out of breath. "She couldn't have gotten far, though."

"Humph. She's probably hiding somewhere. We'll keep looking. I'm not too much in a hurry to get back anyway. But if we don't find her, maybe the wolves will," the man chuckled.

Scarlett covered her mouth to prevent a shriek from emitting. _There are fucking wolves out here?!_ she internally screamed. Great; another thing she was going to have to worry about.

"Heh, yeah," the second man laughed along. "I'd like to see her last a night out here by herself. But if we do find her, maybe we could get a little somethin'-somethin' started," he smirked and raised his arms above his head, fist-pumping at alternating times as if he were dancing.

"Oh, shut it. I don't think anyone's going to be in the partying mood for a while with Vladimir pissed off. I guarantee that somebody else is going to die within the next few hours. Just make sure it's not you."

"Whatever, man. I might go hunting for the next few days whether Vladimir's cheesed or not. Need to get away from the drama."

"Sounds pretty nice, actually. Need a hunting buddy?"

"I cooould…" The second man stretched out the second word and both of them chuckled. Scarlett watched them saunter away in the direction she had been running before releasing the breath that she had been subconsciously holding in.

She was still alive. Praise the Lord, she had somehow survived all of that! It was nothing short of a miracle. It had to be. But her rejoicing was put on hold as more voices emerged from behind her. She sulked, not wanting to turn around and see more rugged men scrutinizing the area for her. She supposed she was going to have to sit here until the coast was clear. If she heard nothing for a considerable amount of time, she would leave the brush and search for some kind of shelter. She certainly didn't want to be out here wandering around the woods blindly at night, especially if there were predators on the prowl.

* * *

Vladimir walked with a group of five Solarii through the forest. One of the men affirmed that he was a tracker and was able to determine the girl's path immediately after she disappeared. But after an hour or so, he claimed the trail ran cold. Vladimir was fuming. Firstly, because this half-wit "tracker" was an incompetent waste of oxygen. Secondly, because the girl had shown him up. If she ever came into his presence again, he would kill her. Oh, he would kill her pretty, little ass for betraying him.

He couldn't understand it, though. After everything he had done for her, why would she do this to him? He had spared her life, fed her his food, kept her safe, made love to her— overall, risking his life for her — and she repaid him by leaving?! Even though she knew what would happen to her if she did? And she even had the nerve, the downright nerve, to point a gun at him and threaten to kill him!

On the other hand, he knew that this wasn't entirely her fault. He had let his guard down. She had made herself so trustworthy in a short amount of time and he had fallen for it. Dmitri had warned him about this; that she would either try to escape or kill him. So why hadn't he seen it coming? Deep down, Vladimir knew the answer, but didn't want to admit it to himself: he had been thinking more with his dick than his mind for the last couple of days. He had been so wrapped up in his own lust.

He shook his head at the thoughts tearing down his self-esteem. This was not his fault. _She_ had betrayed _him_! Deceived him! She had put on this act right from the very beginning. Ever since she had given him that smile on that first night, she had plotted to make him a fool. She knew that he was desperate for affection, that he was rash. And like an idiot, he had fallen for her act! How could he have been so stupid?! He released a groan and ran a hand angrily through his dark hair as the same thoughts kept circulating through his head like a violent vortex. He couldn't seem to get rid of them and they only served to make him more irate.

"I can't believe you didn't have her tied up, Vlad," one of the men said, rummaging through a shrub with the butt of his rifle. "I mean, did you just forget or did you, like, actually trust her?"

"Shut up," the Russian scowled. He knew he had been foolish. He didn't need people throwing it back in his face.

"Yeah," the person to his right added, "she must've buttered you up real good if you didn't even feel the need to tie her up anymore. What did she do to get that privilege? Suck your dick every night?"

" _Shut_. _Up_." Vladimir repeated more forcefully. The girl wasn't even like that. She didn't parade herself around and spread her legs for every man she saw. Yes, he had called her a whore on numerous occasions, but she was his whore. Only his. She wasn't promiscuous at all, just an ordinary girl. There was nothing special about her that stood out, but she was different somehow; sweet, innocent. She had made him feel something more, something deeper. A longing. Like for a friend. No, not a friend. That would be too close of a relationship. More like…a companion; a pet. A very faithful one that he could cherish. It was a relationship not based on communication, but on mere presence. When he had wanted her, she was there; ready to give him her full attention. He hadn't wanted the relationship to end.

But apparently, she had never wanted to be with him in the first place. She had played the part of this loveable pet and then when the chance came for her to show her true colors, she turned into a vicious canine and had bitten his hand, the hand that had given her everything. Just like… _her_. He thought of the dream he had earlier this morning. Anya. His sister had once been sweet and lovely, but then had turned into a bitch too. The scowl on his face became even more vicious. Women…They were fickle, deceitful, ungrateful. They never knew how good they had it. The grass was always greener on the other side. And then, they would always have the damned nerve to say that the man was the bad guy in the relationship. The bitches could never admit that they were the problem. Maybe that was the real reason why Father Mathias never allowed any women to live on this island. They just got in the way and caused unnecessary drama.

"Ha ha ha, she played you like a fiddle, you poor bastard," the Solarii closest to him continued mocking. "And you fell for her sweet—"

His sentence was cut short by Vladimir putting a bullet through his head. The man instantly dropped to the ground. Everyone halted and turned around, alarmed at the close proximity of the gunshot. Vladimir aimed his gun at the men that remained, prepared to shoot the next one whom irritated him.

"Shut up and find the bitch, you worthless cunts!"

"Okay, okay," another scavenger held his hands out in defense. "We're on it."

"NOW!" he roared. They ran from him like he had set their pants on fire. He watched them disappear further into the woods, the lines between his brows deepening. He was glad they were gone. It was probably better for them too. If they stayed, he'd most likely kill all of them before the search was over. He had possessed this level of ferocity every now and then, either because someone was being an ass or because he needed to blow off steam, but this was the first time that he had been played in this way. And he did not care for it one bit. The girl would pay. She. Would. _Pay_.

* * *

There were footsteps here and faint voices there. The bushes rustled. A squirrel jumped from one branch to another in the tree above. A deer pawed at the ground with its hoof, snorted, and then bolted. The sound of a rifle projecting a high caliber bullet through the air and into the head of a hanging man kept echoing in Scarlett's mind. She listened to these noises for hours, focusing mainly on the gunshot. She couldn't stop hearing the sound nor get rid of the image of that purple, gored face every time she closed her eyes. Her hands were so clammy that she swore that she would become dehydrated just by sweating through her hands alone. Every second was like an eternity hiding out here. She swore that with every person that passed through her field of vision, one of them would grab her with rough hands, drag her out of the vegetation, and put a bullet through her body. But the minutes went by. Men patrolled the area, sometimes in small groups, sometimes on their own. And each time they would get in close range of her, she would tense up and cover her mouth for fear that she would breathe too loudly, whimper, or God forbid, sneeze. Only when they were out of ear shot would Scarlett allow herself to go lax, not realizing until then that the bodily tension was wearing her down. And then, she was left alone with her thoughts once again, which she quickly understood was not good at all.

 _Tick. Tock. Gunshot._ She bit her knuckle at that ongoing sequence. _Tick. Tock. Gunshot._

 _Tick. Tock. You're in shock, Scarlett. Snap out of it!_

 _But I KILLED somebody…_

 _There's nothing you can do about it now. You can't shut down. Not now. Not when you've come this far._

Knowing that that stupid authoritative voice of hers was right, she wiped away the tears that had left clean trails down her dirty cheeks. She had to get far away from people. That was the number one priority. There was nothing she could do for the dead man now. She had tried to save him. Her intentions were in the right place. That had to count for something, right? It was just an unfortunate circumstance, an accident. God forgave accidents. He knew she was a good person. At least, she hoped she still was. She couldn't really tell who she was anymore. She used to be Scarlett Glockner: college student, loyal friend, and loving daughter. Now, she was a murderer, a coward, and a…slut; a completely different person. No one would recognize her now. Not her family, not her friends…well, those friends that were still alive. Scarlett felt hot tears leak out of her eyes again at the thought of Zoey. Was Zoey even alive at this point? Scarlett wondered if she should go looking for her.

 _No, Scarlett. She'd want you to get help. Don't go looking for her on your own. That'd just be another way to get killed. Where would you even start? The village full of men? You'd go up and say, 'Hi, don't mind me. I'm just looking for my friend, Zoey. Have you seen her?' You'd be the biggest idiot on the planet and get a bullet in your skull or worse. Just get away, Scarlett. FAR away. As far as you can go._

Once it had been quiet for a considerable amount of time and sensing that nighttime was not going to come any slower, Scarlett crawled out of the shrubbery. All of her limbs were stiff and sore. Grunting, she went to stand up, but began to see black specks in her eyes. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees. She must have stood up too quickly.

"Okay. It's okay. You're okay," she encouraged herself, attempting to stay positive.

The dots began to recede. She fully stood up, carefully slung her rifle around her torso, and started to walk forward. She was tired, hungry, and wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a nap.

From a distance, she heard a person talking. _Shit._

"We searched this area a hundred times already."

Scarlett backed up with huge eyes, trying to determine the direction of the voice, but tripped and landed in another shrub. A branch scraped her arm.

The person continued to complain, "C'mon, man. It's getting late and we're, like, the last ones out here. Can we just go back now? She's probably long gone and I'm hungry."

"Dude, I've actually stopped looking hours ago. We're just killing time now. We don't wanna go back to camp and have Vladimir chew our asses out because we didn't search long enough, now do we?"

"I guess not."

A thick branch with leaves blocked Scarlett's view of the men. Thankfully, they hadn't seemed to have heard her little mishap. They passed her hiding place and began talking again.

"Look, we'll make another round and call it quits for tonight. Once Vladimir cools off, he won't give two shits about the girl anymore. The island will probably take care of her anyway."

The first man changed the topic. "Think anybody's cooking tonight?"

"Dunno. It's probably going to rain, though. Clouds are gathering over there," his companion pointed at the sky above. Scarlett gazed up and grimaced. It looked like it was going to be a pretty nasty downpour with the darkening clouds looming ahead. And she was going to be caught in the thick of it unless these guys hurried their asses up and moved on so she could find shelter in time.

"You know what would be good right now? A nice steak."

"Or a thick, juicy burger on a toasted bun. With crispy fries and a beer in a frosted mug."

"Aw, damn. Stop it. You're gonna make me cry."

Scarlett wanted to bawl too. Her stomach twisted itself around at the mention of delectable food. It made an audible growl and she practically punched her abdomen to silence it. Scarlett held her breath for fear of being discovered, but the scavengers continued on with their daydreaming.

"Or a pizza," he continued, putting Scarlett and his partner through more agony. "With a cheese-stuffed crust."

"And ice cream for dessert."

"Or warm doughnuts."

"Oh, yeahhh." Scarlett imagined the guy had drool sliding down his chin. "You know what would be better than all of that? Chocolate cake."

Scarlett wanted to cover her ears. Why would they do this to themselves? Why torture their salivary glands when they didn't know the next time they would eat any of that?

Their footsteps began to fade and she waited a couple of minutes before poking her head out to check around again. It was quiet. She crawled out on her hands and knees. That was really close. Maybe she should stick to the shrubbery or, at least, always designate a nearby tree as cover incase any more people come within hearing distance. It would be very unfortunate, or even her downfall, if she fell into their clutches again because she had been acting careless. She had imagined that she would have been done with worrying about these people once she escaped, but that couldn't be further from the truth now. She was going to have to be just as cautious as before, perhaps even more.

* * *

A short while later, Scarlett came across what appeared to be a small cave. She hurried to it, desperate to get out of the now drizzling rain, and peered inside. It seemed deserted. Checking the floor for animal droppings and finding none, she deemed it safe to sleep in for the night. The idea of building a fire came to mind, but the amount of effort from gathering materials to exerting enough energy to create a spark sounded like an awful lot. Who knew if there was actually any flint around here anyway? And even if she were to get one started, it would probably give away her position easily. So all in all, she wasn't going to be constructing one tonight.

Scarlett laid her gun down on the cave floor and took in her surroundings. The entrance was severely bothering her. What if someone or _something_ saw her during the night? The men said that there were wolves out here. She had only ever seen wolves once in her life and that was at the zoo. And from behind a fence. She thought they were beautiful creatures, but she wouldn't want to see one up close. If she did, however, she probably wouldn't think they'd be so beautiful then. She wanted some kind of door, a barrier for protection and concealment.

Scarlett went back outside and spotted a giant branch full of needles lying on the ground next to a huge pine tree. She grabbed the end of it and pulled. The muscles in her legs screamed at her to stop, but she cursed back at them and hauled the branch in front of the cave entrance using all of her strength. Just as she made it inside, the rain began to come down harder. Scarlett let go of the branch, dusted her hands off, and scrutinized it. The amount of needles was so plentiful that no one would suspect anybody in this cave if they casually glanced at it. It would have to do for tonight. She laid down and stretched out, knowing her muscles were sighing with sweet relief. Replaying the events of the day in her head, she still couldn't believe what she had done. She had finally escaped, but not without paying a price. The man she had shot was probably a douchebag anyway, but still, she had taken his life, his ability to draw breath. It was wrong.

It was raining extremely hard outside now. Scarlett could see the raindrops flying sideways. The only time she had seen it rain like that was during a hurricane. When one of those occurred back home in Mississippi during the late summer months, her family would have to board up the windows, secure anything they had kept outside, and stock up on canned goods and water. The sky would turn a wicked black and the rain would fall down in sheets. Sometimes, the wind would blow so hard that it would uproot trees and sling debris all the way across the neighborhood. She usually didn't sleep well during those nights because of the booming thunder and because she was worried about flooding, the roof over her head being swept off, or a big tree falling and crushing her home in two. And she could tell that this night wasn't going to be much different than one of those with regards to sleep. She watched the rain descend and let her mind wander.

How did the rest of the men fare in this weather? Did they have a cave to hole up in or did they just take shelter in those outdated huts with leaky roofs? Speaking of leaky roofs, Scarlett wondered if Vladimir had fixed that hole in his shack yet or was it still—

Scarlett's gut lurched and she banged her head against the ground in punishment. _No, stop! Don't think about him!_

Rolling over with her back to the cave entrance, she placed an arm under her head and stared into the darkness, listening to the sound of the rain echoing off of the stone walls. She wanted to close her eyes, thinking about how this would be the first night that she spent here on this island without being terrorized before going to sleep. She deserved to have, at least, a good twelve hours of rest. But with the rush of finally being on her own and the act of becoming an accidental murderer today, it was hardly likely that she would be able to get an ounce of sleep tonight. Her mind was going to keep on reeling with everything that's occurred until she crashed from exhaustion. And she did not want to be out in the middle of the forest when that happened. She needed to rest. Even if she only closed her eyes.

Staring into the darkness of the posterior of the cave, she began to count down from one hundred like her mother had always told her to do whenever she couldn't sleep or if she had a nightmare when she was younger. It was a way to keep her mind active, yet dull enough to make her body relax and lull it into unconsciousness without even realizing it.

She kept counting down and by the time she reached zero for a fourth time, she was getting agitated from insomnia. If she was at home, she normally would have begun reading a book or watching a late-night sitcom at this point. But this wasn't home. She didn't have anything to occupy herself and she was vulnerable prey to her own thoughts. She had to keep them at bay, otherwise they would break her and tear her down with feelings of guilt and paranoia.

Maybe she was just trying too hard. If she could convince her mind that it didn't have to go to sleep and could just lay there and relax, it would make her feel more at ease. No pressure; just lean back against the cave wall and watch the rain come down. If she wanted to sleep, then great; if not, oh well. She sat up, leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest, watching the water fall. The drops falling into the puddles at the cave entrance made a very tranquil sound that gave her an almost comforting feeling. She liked the _bloop bloop_ noise. And after what felt like hours of restlessness, the water drops did convince her to fall into a light sleep, for which she was unknowingly grateful.


	12. Day 5: Morning

****A/N: ******Sorry I haven't gotten this out sooner. I've been editing a future chapter and wanted to finish it before posting this one. On top of that, I got a cat! I know, I know, excuses. I hope this chapter makes up for it, though. Thanks for reading and also to the Guest who left a review last chapter. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. It means a lot whenever I get that notification in my inbox :) I also want to give a special thanks to The Hobbit Diet for editing this chapter! It's come a long way since its first draft. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

 _Eight-year-old Scarlett tugged on the sleeve of her dad's camouflage jacket. It was the first thing that captured her attention apart from the singing birds and the scurrying of critters that morning._

 _"_ _Daddy," she whispered, "I hear something!"_

 _"_ _Probably just a squirrel."_

 _Scarlett wrinkled her nose at his presumption and crossed her arms with a pout. It didn't sound like a squirrel. The noise was constant and deep, like heavy footsteps. That's what her dad said it would sound like._

 _"_ _Oh, wait, Scarlett," he nudged her arm softly, "look to your left."_

 _Scarlett turned her head, pigtails swinging, and her eyes caught sight of what her father was referring to. She instantly covered her mouth with her mitten-clad hands and peered up at her dad with eyes huge like a bug's, trying not to explode from excitement. He merely smiled to contain his chuckle and shifted from out of his shabby chair._

 _"_ _Here," he whispered and helped her situate the rifle against her shoulder. Keeping his voice low, he told her, "Now, look in the scope and shoot whenever you see it in the middle of the cross."_

 _"_ _But what if—"_

 _"_ _Shhh!" he put his finger over his lips to silence her. "You have to whisper. Deer have very good hearing."_

 _"_ _Sorry," she apologized, her young voice projecting a high-pitched whisper. Her face blushed and her form hunched over from embarrassment at being corrected._

 _"_ _It's okay. Just remember what I taught you. It's not as hard as you think. You can do it."_

 _"_ _Okay…" Scarlett bit her chapped lip, trying to restrain her enthusiasm. She looked through the scope of the gun resting on the window sill of the tree stand, attempting to be motionless, but all she felt like doing was repeatedly jumping up and down like a rambunctious puppy._

 _First, she saw the ivory-colored antlers bobbing up and down as the deer swayed its head as it paced. She counted four tines on its rack as she waited for the animal to get clear of a tree for a visually-uninhibited shot, but it wouldn't move. It stood stagnant, its nose nuzzling through the leaves on the ground for browse and acorns._

 _Impatience eating away at her, Scarlett whined, "Daddy, it won't come any closer." She knew she would sound like a toddler if she told her dad to_ _ **make**_ _it move. After watching countless nature programs on TV, she had known by now that the animal would only do what it wanted to do. Her dad wouldn't be able to pull it out from the cover of the tree just so she could shoot it._

 _"_ _Be patient," her father told her. "It'll come to you. It doesn't know we're here, so there's no need to rush."_

 _The grazing ruminant raised its head a few inches from the ground and took a few steps forward, putting it in Scarlett's direct line of sight. The little girl's pupils dilated from eagerness as she stared into the scope. The deer came to a halt, giving her the perfect opportunity to shoot. She held her breath, watching jets of steam emit from the animal's nostrils due to the cold air. When should she shoot?_

 _Now?_

 _Or should she wait a moment?_

 _What about now?_

 _If she waited too long, then it would move on and she would be angry with herself for the rest of the day. She needed to shoot soon, like right…_

 _NOW!_

 _She pulled the trigger back slowly with her index finger, just like her dad had taught her, and the deer promptly collapsed to the ground. Her eyes were so fixated on its motionless form that the powerful ringing sound in her ears seemed minor at the moment. She turned to her father with the widest grin plastered across her face._

 _"_ _Daddy, I did it!"_

 _"_ _Shhh," her father put his finger to his lips yet again, "we still gotta be quiet. We don't want it to run off."_

 _She nodded. She couldn't remember when it started, but her teeth were chattering so loudly at the moment that it was audible in the silent deer stand._

 _Scarlett's father raised an eyebrow at her. "Scarlett, are you cold?"_

 _"_ _No," the little girl shook her head back and forth, her teeth still clanging together at a million miles a minute. "I just can't stop shaking."_

 _"_ _Too excited?"_

 _Scarlett nodded rapidly, the giant grin never leaving her face._

 _Her dad couldn't contain his smile either. She couldn't look any more adorable, especially in her junior hunting gear consisting of a camouflage jumpsuit, an overcoat, kid-sized boots, cap, and mittens. She really looked like a puffy, camouflage marshmallow. Despite all of the insulating clothes and packets of hand warmers in her pockets, he could tell that she was still cold because of her red ears and nose. The low temperatures made her sinuses drip and she wiped her leaky nose on her mitten. Minus the miserable conditions, though, father and daughter were equally proud of themselves and reveled in the moment._

 _After an agonizing half hour, they climbed out of the tree stand to the deceased deer. Scarlett's father took out a digital camera. "Okay, let's take a picture for momma because you know she's going to want to see. Sit down by the deer and hold its antlers," he instructed her._

 _Scarlett's boots squelched through the damp leaves that littered the forest floor as she inched her way towards the animal. She had never gotten this close to a deer before. She knew to be weary of its antlers. They could certainly do a considerable amount of damage to a little girl like her._

 _"_ _It's okay, honey. You can touch it," he reassured and gestured for her to move closer._

 _Scarlett leaned down, stuck out her index finger, and poked the deer's shoulder lightly. It was still warm. "Whoa…" She didn't know how it would feel, but it was unquestionably a surprise that not all of the heat left its body yet._

 _Her dad spoke up to get her attention once again. "On the count of three, I'm taking the picture."_

 _Scarlett kneeled down in the bed of leaves and grasped the cold, bone antlers, trying to prop up the buck's head. "Daddy, it's heavy. He's got a big head," she grunted._

 _"_ _Just do the best you can," he laughed and raised the camera, taking a couple of steps backwards to capture both animal and huntress on the screen._

 _Scarlett yanked on an antler again to pull the buck's head up, but it suddenly felt like she was pulling on something weak, like string. She looked down to see why it felt so different and she furrowed her eyebrows to discover that what she was grasping was a fistful of fine brown hair. Her confused eyes traveled down even further and she suddenly jerked backwards to see an actual human head, the head of the man she had shot, complete with the bullet mark on his forehead and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. She went to shriek by how sickening the image was, but no sound came out as she stared at the man's purple face._

 _"_ _Okay. Give me a big smile, Scarlett," her dad urged._

 _Scarlett whipped her head back to see her father smiling. Why was he smiling?! Couldn't he see that she was holding up the decapitated head of the man she had just killed less than a day ago?! Why couldn't he see that?! He should be shocked! Or sad, angry; something! Why wasn't he?! And there was no way in hell that she would ever want a picture of this._

 _'_ _Let go, Scarlett', her mind screamed. 'Let go of the fucking thing!'_

 _She tried to release the head, but her hand wouldn't comply, like she was meant to take the picture with it. Her mind didn't_ _ **want**_ _her to forget what she had done._

 _She wanted to scream at her father. She wanted to tell him that this was all wrong. But more than anything, she wanted to scream that she was sorry. She was sorry for everything she had done: going on the research trip, not doing anything to prevent being raped, and taking the life of another person. She wanted to take it all back. She should've just stayed home this summer._

 _But much to her dread, her dad just kept that wide grin on his face. He seemed proud that she was holding a decapitated head, like he was the pleased father of a warrior child from an indigenous tribe. What the hell was wrong with him?!_

 _He held the camera up to his face, ready to take the awful picture. She lowered her head to the ground and screamed as loud as she could. She felt the vibrations coursing through her vocal chords. It stung, but maybe it would stir her father out of his ignorant trance._

 _He didn't even seem fazed by it, however._

 _"_ _One…two…three!"_

* * *

Scarlett woke to a clap of thunder and scrambled onto her hands and knees, her eyes darting around in every direction. Where was she? Where was her dad? Where was the decapitated head? She looked around to see that she was still in the cave and it was raining outside. An enormous sigh of relief escaped her lips.

"It was only a dream. A horrible one…" she mumbled and laid back down, her heart not yet ceasing its briskly thumping. She rubbed her throat with her sweaty palm. It felt sore, like she really had been screaming bloody murder.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep as it was still dark outside, though she wondered how she had even drifted off the first time. She tossed and turned, but she couldn't shake that dream—no, that nightmare—from her mind. She shivered, not sure if it was due to the nightmare or because she was cold. She wrapped her arms around her body and curled into a ball, waiting for dawn to arrive.

* * *

Sometime later that morning when the rain had finally slackened to a drizzle, she stirred and sat up. Her thigh muscles cried when she forced them to stretch. Scarlett raised her arms above her head, actually wincing when she heard a popping sound. Knowing that she was going to need to start moving to loosen her muscles, she crawled to the entrance of the cave and pushed the tree branch out of the way. For the most part, the cave floor stayed relatively dry, but the grass outside was soaked. Scarlett pulled the sling of her rifle towards her until it was in her hands. She thought it felt heavy yesterday, but holding it now, she was sure that it had gained ten pounds overnight. Getting to her feet, she slowly poked her head outside. She pursed her lips in anxiety, her senses on high alert as she took her first step out of her hiding place. Her concentration was immediately broken when she heard a _squish_. She peered down at her feet to see that her foot sank into the ground like a sponge. She frowned.

 _Lovely_ , _just like home._

She almost jolted in surprise when she heard a muffled, high-pitched moan come from her torso. She needed to get some food in her ASAP or she wasn't going to last much longer. That could be her main objective for today, along with heading towards the beach. Maybe she could do some hunting. She had gone on a few hunting treks by herself back home, so it would be nothing new for her; except for the whole being dehydrated, malnourished, hurt, and hunted part. That would definitely make things a lot more challenging.

She looked down at the firearm in her hands and pushed the lever on her lever-action rifle forward to see how many shots she had to work with.

A cartridge tumbled onto the ground. Okay, she had one. One was better than nothing.

She yanked the lever forward again.

Nothing.

Her forehead creased and she tried again and again and again in hopes that one more round would magically pop out of the magazine and onto the grass.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!

She grunted and wanted to throw the rifle on the ground in anger.

 _Shit, shit, shit! Just my frickin' luck. How am I gonna hunt with only one shot? Where's the rest of my cartridges?_

Scarlett glowered as she stared at the forest in front of her and her gut sank straightaway when she came up with the answer.

 _Vladimir…Damn him! Damn him to fucking hell!_

 _Okay, Scarlett, calm down. Damning him won't get you any food. You'll just look for some fruit plants or berries or something. The guys around here eat more than just meat, right?_

 _I guess…_ she agreed half-heartedly with herself. _Wait, Vladimir had gotten me some kind of fruit that looked like a pomegranate the day before last. I wonder if there are any more of those plants around here._

She then began to wander the forest in search for some type of food. She hoped it wouldn't take her long to find something because she felt vulnerable walking around with only one shot in her gun. She couldn't waste it. She declared it should only be used for an emergency like if she were about to be attacked. Or if a miraculous opportunity came and she had the absolute _perfect_ opening for a shot that she was a hundred percent confident that she would not miss to take down an animal for food; but what were the chances of that occurring when she was as weak and paranoid as she was?

* * *

After searching for the remainder of the morning, she hadn't found anything to eat. All she kept seeing were grass, trees, and bushes that contained no berries whatsoever. Even if she did come across some berries, she had never learned enough about plants in her life to know whether they'd be edible or not. And it wasn't like she could watch the birds eat them to see if they were deadly. What might be safe for one creature to consume could be poisonous for another.

Scarlett leaned back against a wide tree and slid down its trunk in defeat. She wrapped her fingers around blades of grass and ripped them from the ground. She brought her hand up to her face and stared at them.

 _Cows eat grass. Maybe I could…_

 _No, Scarlett, c'mon!_

She hurled the snippets of grass into the air, brought her hands to her face, and snarled in frustration. She slowly exhaled through her nose to calm down. How the hell did animals live day in and day out hunting for food and never knowing when their next meal was going to come? Her sullen eyes scanned the forest from between her fingers and she noticed an unusual silhouette next to a rotting log several yards away. She perked up a little, sitting up straighter and letting her hands fall into her lap. Should she go check it out? What was she thinking? Of course she should! It might be a dead deer or something; a possible free meal.

She stood up, using the tree behind her for support, and positioned her rifle so that she could strike with the butt of it if the silhouette was anything dangerous. Approaching the unknown figure, she discovered it was a person lying face down in the dirt. He was dead. An arrow through his neck confirmed it. He looked like he could be one of those scavengers because he wore a camouflage jacket and his overall appearance was rugged. Scarlett kneeled down and hesitantly poked the corpse's arm. She suddenly thought back to her nightmare from earlier and shivered. The thought of looting the body came to mind, but she wondered it that would be violating him to some degree. On the other hand, he might have something useful that she could use. It would benefit her more than him now anyway.

Grimacing, Scarlett placed her hands on the arm furthest from her and rolled the body towards her. Luckily, he didn't seem to be as large as some of these other men around here. He landed on his back and Scarlett felt her stomach do a flip at the sight of his open eyes. She scooted backwards out of reflex and only gawked at the dead body in front of her. The only dead things she ever handled in her life were deer and a couple of rabbits. But this was…different. This body used to have a soul. It used to house a person. He wasn't in there anymore, but that thought hardly gave her any comfort. She needed to get over her squeamishness, though. She wouldn't survive very long out here if she didn't.

Taking a deep breath, she reached to unzip his jacket down the front and swiftly pulled the zipper all the way to the end. Scarlett quickly shrugged the coat from his shoulders while trying not to linger on the thought of what she was actually doing. Once she slid the sleeves down his arms, she held the garment against her own body to gauge its fit. It was a little large, but she could get away with wearing it. She glanced back at the corpse momentarily and guilt swiftly struck her hard.

"Sorry," she whispered. People in the outside world would be calling her a grave robber for what she was doing.

Scarlett's hands dove into the pockets on the front of the jacket and pulled out a few rounds of ammunition, but it wasn't for her rifle. The cartridges were too small. Rummaging through the opposite pocket, she retrieved an opened bag of hulled sunflower seeds. Her eyes lit up and she clutched it to her chest as though it were a long-lost lover.

 _Oh, thank you, Lord God!_

Unraveling the package with jittery hands, she poured out a handful of seeds into her palm, spilling a few on the ground in the process, and shoved them all into her mouth at once. The salt that coated the hulls was divine. It was even better than pizza or doughnuts. She sucked the salt off of each seed before cracking the hull open with her teeth to eat the small kernel inside. She spit out the shells, wondering if the dead man had been carrying any water on him. She reached over, less hesitant this time, and patted the man down, waiting to feel a plastic bottle, canteen, flask, or thermos of any kind. A small canteen was attached to his hip and Scarlett ripped it from him, unscrewed the top, and held it above her mouth, anticipating a stream of liquid to instantly come flooding out. She felt a drop land on her tongue, but it wasn't enough to even taste whatever it was. She shook the container, pleading for it to release more liquid, but nothing else came out. She slammed the canteen on the grass and groaned. Why had this guy been walking around without water in the first place? Had he been a fucking idiot?!

Scarlett closed her eyes, knowing that she should just be thankful that she found this man to begin with. The fact that he had supplies she could use more or less saved her life.

She went back to searching the body and discovered a filet knife holstered in a sheath on his other hip. That could come in handy. She slipped the latch on the back of the sheath into the right front pocket of her jeans. Moving on, she was stunned to fish a wallet out of the scavenger's back pants' pocket. Opening the tattered thing, she encountered a personal driver's license, credit cards, crumpled U.S. dollar bills, and photographs. Studying the license, it revealed that the man's name was Dominic Pecheur. He used to live in Massachusetts. Scarlett flipped through the photos. All of them had yellow stains and the ink on some had become distorted, most likely due to water damage. The first picture was of a family. Dominic was standing in the middle next to a woman, holding her hand in his. Scarlett squinted and saw a ring on the woman's finger. They must have been married. An older boy and a young girl stood on either side of the adults. The boy had a full head of brown hair, nearly resembling a mop, and the girl had a huge smile on her face. Her teeth were slightly crooked. All of a sudden, Scarlett felt moisture erupting through her sinuses. Her eyes began to burn, so she squished the corners of the inside of her eyes with her fingers. This family looked happy. Well, most of them seemed to be; the boy had probably complained about taking the picture because the side of his mouth was curled downward in a small frown. He looked to be in his teens. Overall though, they looked like the perfect family, like they didn't have any problems in the world. But now, Dominic was here on this island. Did his family even know that he was here? That he was dead? What happened to his wife, the kids? Did his wife get remarried and the children had to get used to having a step-father? Scarlett wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffed. The other photos in the wallet were pictures of the son and daughter in their school uniforms. The boy had a smirk on his face and the girl smiled the same big grin. It made Scarlett turn the corners of her mouth upwards a little. She then fumbled through the credit cards and dollar bills, staring at the faces of the U.S. presidents. It practically made her laugh, knowing how useless money was out here. There was also a piece of linen cloth folded in the wallet. Scarlett undid it and there was some scribbling on it. It was written in dark red ink. Scarlett wondered if Dominic had used his blood to write because he didn't have a pen.

 _Red=retching_

 _Black=bitter_

 _Yellow=mellow_

 _Purple=pleasant_

What the hell did this mean? It must have been important, otherwise he wouldn't have written it down. She stuffed the cloth into a jacket pocket for safekeeping and retrieved her rifle to continue on her trek. She didn't know exactly where she was heading, but her goal was to make it out of the forest by nightfall. Taking up the wallet, she placed the leather object back on the dead man's chest, took his hands, and laid them on top of it. She noted how he was still wearing his wedding ring as well. How long has he been on this island? It could've been years. And it was sort of touching to see that after all of this time, he had kept that special piece of jewelry. His left hand slid down to the ground. Scarlett frowned and put it back on his chest. It fell again. She pursed her lips, deciding not to bother him any longer. He looked peaceful, like he was clutching his wallet to his heart; thinking of his family even in death. Scarlett bowed her head and stood there for a moment before walking away, as though she were departing from a memorial.

* * *

It didn't take her long to find a wooden shack in the middle of the forest. Deciding to give her body a rest, she stepped in, armed with her rifle ready, but there was nothing waiting for her. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Scarlett sat in a corner and tugged at the new jacket she was wearing. It was about two sizes too large, but it felt cozy, regardless of the stale smell. She pulled out the bag of sunflower seeds to munch on for a little while. If she had to guess, she would say it was around the middle of the afternoon. It had been cloudy for most of the day, but the sun would peek out from behind the clouds every once in a while. She had a few more hours before it would get dark again and at the rate she was traveling, there was no way she was going to make it out of these woods before sunset; which meant, to her displeasure, she was going to have to find another spot to camp out tonight.

As she fought to get the seeds out of the sunflower hulls in her mouth, she studied her temporary shelter and found that the hut wasn't much bigger than the one she had previously resided in. It was very bare and chunks of the walls were missing, like heavy winds had ripped the panels apart or debris had crashed into the building. After she got bored of just sitting there, she assembled her loose hair into a messy bun, not caring if there were imperfections or not. Procrastinating going back outside, she re-laced her boots, checked her gun, and cleaned her new knife to the best of her ability by using the end of her jacket sleeve as a polisher.

Finally acknowledging that she shouldn't delay any longer, she got up and stuck her nose back outside to make sure it was safe. The drizzling rain had finally come to a stop, but the dark clouds remained and the wind continued to blow. She heard a low rumble. It was most likely thunder, wanting to get in one last rumble before it ceased completely.

She made it about six steps from the shack before she was immediately tackled to the ground by a force so strong that she thought a train had crashed into her. Eyes darting in all directions, she was in for the shock of her life when her gaze landed upon a feral wolf. It had a gray coat with dark streaks along its back and golden eyes. Its lips were pulled back into a snarl, exposing its canine teeth to her, and its front was lowered to the ground in preparation to pounce. Scarlett froze at the sight. She wanted to scoot back or get into the fetal position to show that she was no threat, but she had no clue how the animal would react. It growled at her, in spite of her frozen state. She knew it was smart and could detect her fear. They couldn't stay in this stand-off for long, though. If she didn't take charge first, the wolf would.

She didn't know what force of will was commanding her at the moment, but she raised her left arm to protect her face while her right hand reached for the filet knife. It was a thin blade, but it was better than nothing and she feared the amount of movement that it would take to grab her rifle and aim would be too threatening for the wolf.

Perceiving her movements as a challenge nevertheless, the animal charged and took her arm in-between its jaws. It clamped down on her skin and pierced the muscle, making her scream. It shook its head from side to side like a dog aggressively playing with a chew toy. The pain grew worse with each shake as the puncture wounds grew in length and width. Scarlett held the knife downwards in her fist and plunged the blade into its neck. It felt like she had hardly pierced through anything because of the amount of fur, but the wolf let out a yelp and Scarlett held onto the knife for dear life as the canine shook itself free from the blade's hold. She stood and held the weapon out in front of her, displaying the red liquid that was painted on it, advising the wolf to keep its distance. The animal snarled once more and she could see how her blood contrasted its ivory white teeth in its mouth. It dared to take one intimidating step towards her and then another. Scarlett was trembling from head to toe. This thing could really kill her right now. It wasn't like a person. She couldn't persuade or distract it in any way. She was at the beast's complete mercy.

"Back off!" she shouted, though embarrassed by how pathetic she sounded. But maybe her loud voice would be enough to scare it away…

The wolf was not intimidated in the least and charged at her for a third time. Scarlett's breath hitched in her throat, but her instincts told her to move. She flung herself sideways as the wolf leapt into the air and she brought the knife down upon the creature again, stabbing it before it landed back on the ground. The animal howled and fell over onto its side with the knife sticking out of its gut.

Scarlett scrambled to get her rifle into her grasp. She pointed the weapon at the creature, waiting for it to get back up. It swung its front legs in an attempt to stand, but the efforts proved fruitless. It let out pitiful whines and no longer attempted to get back on its feet. She glanced from her gun to the wolf and lowered her rifle, not wanting to use her last round on a dying animal.

Taking timid steps back to the creature to retrieve her knife, she heard a snarl and backed up. The wolf lazily raised its upper lips to expose its fangs, telling her to stay away. Scarlett didn't want to leave that knife behind, though. It was too valuable. She took another step forward, lifting her gun back up to her shoulder, and inched closer to the animal. It made soft growls, but she dared to invade its space. Holding her heavy gun with one quivering hand, she extended her other arm out and quickly slid her knife out of the wolf's flank. It lifted its head to snatch her hand with its deadly jaws, but she jumped back just in time and pointed the blade at the beast to advise it from making any more sudden movements.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head, "but you would've killed me. I was only protecting myself." She kept the knife in front of her and began to leave the scene, never taking her eyes off of the creature. "Stay," she ordered.

Once she was certain that she was out of the wolf's sight, she walked on as she had before, flabbergasted at her own display of courage and strength. She couldn't believe she had survived that. It was phenomenal. Her life might have went to hell in the past few days, but she's survived everything that's been thrown at her so far. Maybe she was stronger than she had previously assumed.

* * *

Nighttime wasn't too far away now. But that wasn't Scarlett's greatest concern at the moment. What kept worrying her were the bite wounds the wolf had given her. She slid her sleeve up her arm to inspect the damage, only to discover several nasty jagged cuts caked with blood. The area was becoming inflamed and the swelling appeared to increase by the minute. And the amount of heat radiating from it was not good; not good at all.

 _It's okay. It's alright. You'll be fine_ , she reassured herself.

… _Unless the wolf had rabies._

Her eyes became wide and she tensed. She had learned about it in just about every biology class she had ever taken. It was a neurologic disease that was spread through the bites of infected animals, causing brain damage and, ultimately, death. Her mind immediately thought of _Cujo_ , the story about a St. Bernard dog that had gotten bit by a bat, went rabid, and started killing people. He was finally put down in the end.

 _Ugh, no, Scarlett. Don't go there. You'll worry yourself to death. I promise you that you're fine. Your arm is probably not as bad as it looks. People have survived much worse._

She eventually stumbled upon a running stream and eagerly rushed to it. She stooped down and cupped her hands to drink some of the water. Oh God, it tasted so good. She would have to fill her canteen with some of this water. She scooped more into her palms and drank again. She splashed some on her arm to cool it, but hissed as it flowed over the broken skin. She repeated the action to clean the wound and watched red colored droplets slide down her wet skin. Once it was rid of the blood, the wounds didn't look as ghastly.

Scarlett unscrewed the cap of the canteen and submerged the container into the water. It was about halfway filled when she began to hear voices talking softly from a distance. She released the canteen as she whipped her head around, making it sink to the rocky bottom of the stream. She couldn't see who the voices belonged to, but one was definitely a man's and the other was higher-pitched, like a woman's. They didn't sound threatening. Maybe they were people from her crew on the _Commendation_ ; but she didn't think anyone had survived after that first night…

Crawling behind a bush to get closer, she confirmed that it was certainly a girl talking. Holy crap! Who was she? Was it Zoey?! Please, God, tell her it was Zoey! Suppressing her excitement, she listened in on the conversation.

"Man, that was a rough storm last night. I sure am glad I ran into you." The voice was different from Zoey's. Scarlett's spirits sank. There was a short pause and then the unknown girl muttered a "thanks."

"It's the least I could do," the man spoke. "The swelling should go down provided you don't put too much pressure on it." There was some brief shuffling around. "Out of all of the commotion that's been happening, I don't think I've even properly introduced myself yet," he chuckled lightly. "My name's Mathias."

He continued speaking, but Scarlett's heart stopped at that sentence. It was Mathias himself, the boss of everything around here: the men, Vladimir, everything. And if she thought Vladimir was bad, then this guy must've been a thousand times worse. Why was this girl even talking to him?! Did she not know that he was the leader of a bunch of murderers?! Scarlett knew she should have ran through the brush to warn the poor girl about him, but she was too afraid of what might happen if she were caught. Would he kidnap and torture her himself? She didn't want to go through that hell again.

Scarlett retreated from the bush, careful not to make any noise, but ended up tripping over a tree root in the process. Out of nowhere, a hand came over her mouth and an arm snatched her around the waist. Not fully realizing what was happening, Scarlett struggled against the force restraining her. In a desperate attempt, she pulled her lips back in a snarl and sank her teeth into the fingers of the hand.

"Shit!" The person retracted their hand. "Lil' girl has some fight!"

Scarlett forcefully brought her elbow back and socked whoever was behind her in the gut, making them release her. Gaining the upper hand, she then turned around and sharply kicked the man in the groin. The scavenger groaned and bent over, holding his crotch and attempting to gasp for breath.

Scarlett went to flee, but collided with another scavenger and he slung her to the ground. He brought a swift kick to her side with his muddy boot and she emitted a yelp. He thrust his foot into her again and the pain was enough to make her cease fighting. She was already battered enough, what with weakness, dehydration, and a wolf bite. She didn't have the energy for a complete brawl with two full-grown men. It seemed pointless to make matters worse. The man that had kicked her brought her to her feet while the other recovered from his crouched position, observing the teeth marks she had put in his hand. He stood in front of Scarlett and stuck his face in hers.

"Like to play dirty, huh, girlie?" he showed her his injured palm. Scarlett observed the red imprint where her teeth had pinched his skin. "Where do you think you're headin'?"

She didn't answer.

"You think she's one of the new ones?" the burly man holding Scarlett asked.

What new ones? What were they talking about?

"Nah, she's the sly, little fox who fooled Vladimir. I couldn't forget her cute face," he grinned and turned back to her. "What happened to y'all, huh?" he questioned in a condescending tone. "You had a fight and wanted to break up with him?"

Scarlett whipped her face from him with a scowl. To think of her and Vladimir's relationship as a romantic couple was repulsive. She wanted nothing more than to bite this guy's nose right off.

"Why don't we just hand her over to the boss man right over there?" his companion suggested.

Scarlett's stomach plummeted towards her feet. _Oh, please, dear God, no!_

The other guy sighed as if annoyed. "Because didn't you hear? Vladimir said if anyone else found out about her, he'd kill us. We have to keep her off the radar. Did you, at least, hear about what happened to Dmitri the day before yesterday?"

The large man raised an eyebrow. "No…?"

"Well, he and Vlad got into a fight. I heard it was pretty intense. And after he was finished with Dmitri, he beat up on some of the other brothers for cat-callin' her. He even killed Trevor; snapped his neck in two. Imagine what he'd do to us if we brought her to Father Mathias now."

"So, what? We're following his orders over Mathias' now?" Disbelief was evident in his voice. Scarlett couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow as well. Was his partner suggesting that Vladimir was more of a leader than Mathias? But she was told by Vladimir himself that Mathias was the head-honcho. What the hell was going on here?

"Look, I just don't want to get my face pounded in," the man said in a way that conveyed that the matter was not up for debate. "Vladimir can decide what he wants to do with her and if that's bringing her to Mathias, then _he_ can do it himself."

Scarlett lunged forward in an attempt to break her captor's grip. "Fuck you!" she hissed. How could they be so cowardly?! Why couldn't they just let her go?! They knew what Vladimir had done to her, how he terrorized her. Were they seriously going to fuck up her life some more?!

"Shhh," the scavenger in front of her put his finger to his lips. "You be quiet now, okay? We don't want to get caught."

How bad could Mathias really be in comparison to Vladimir? Scarlett took in a giant gulp of air to scream in rebellion, but her voice was smothered when a hand covered her mouth again. Her captor retrieved a knife of his own and laid it against her neck.

"You so much as whimper and we'll be bringing a corpse back to Vladimir, which I'm sure he'll fuck to oblivion and back; as long as it's still warm."

Scarlett stiffened at that nauseating imagery while one of them confiscated her rifle. She was glad that she had the guts to retrieve her knife from the wolf when she did. They hadn't seen the blade under her jacket, so that was a positive. With each man taking one of her arms, they led her through the forest until they reached a flight of stone steps. The three of them passed through a large, wooden gate and then another shrine of a female figure made from stone. Was that the…what was she called? Sun Queen? The man holding her gun began to talk, ripping her attention away from her surroundings.

"Girl, you don't even know how much that Russian bastard has been bitching about you. He's been in a bad mood ever since you ditched him. And let me tell you, that's not something you want to be around. He's already killed a handful of us since yesterday and keeps snapping at everybody like he's about to bite their heads off. So, when he sees you," he began to chuckle, "you are gonna be so dead. Just prepare yourself for a good beating…maybe even worse," he smiled and gave a shrug. "Hopefully, he'll give us a good show."

Fear descended upon Scarlett like a dead weight. This was it. She was going to die. The question now was how Vladimir was going to do it: asphyxiation, beaten to death, stabbed, shot, slitting her throat? She knew whatever method he chose, he was not going to let her off easy. He was not going to grant her a quick death. No, he wanted her to suffer; to make her pay for abandoning him.


	13. Day 5: Evening

Panic consumed Scarlett at the thought of what Vladimir was going to do to her. All of the possibilities that ran through her mind ended with death. He had told her on that first night that if she should run from him a second time, she was going to die. And she did. She had run so fast from him. And now he was going to kill her. Scarlett dug her heels into the ground in an attempt to slow the progression of her movements, but the scavengers that flanked her continued to drag her forward.

They arrived at a small clearing surrounded by shrubs, a rock wall, and a run-down hut. It was there that Scarlett saw him. He was giving orders to a group of scavengers in Russian, so Scarlett wasn't able to understand what he was saying, but from the way he spoke, she could tell he was not happy. He had fire in his eyes and his tone was forceful. When Vladimir turned to walk away after speaking, one of his minions rolled their eyes and sarcastically mumbled something under his breath. Vladimir must have had phenomenal hearing because he instantly spun around and shot the person square in the forehead. Scarlett's lip quivered as she watched the body drop to the ground with a thud. The scavenger who was standing beside the victim stared down at the corpse with a gaping mouth. His wide eyes went to Vladimir, whom only ushered him to move with a flick of his gun. The man took off without a word, his face white as a sheet. The other men within the group either possessed a worried expression or indifference as they disappeared from the clearing one by one. The two men holding Scarlett were right: Vladimir was in a foul mood. And his aim was on point. Would he give her a quick death by shooting her? That seemed like it'd be too easy.

"Vladimir," the man on her left got the Russian's attention, "we got her. Do your thing." He shoved her forward towards the middle of the clearing and Scarlett suddenly felt a sense of abandonment. The last of the scavengers in the assembly stopped in their tracks to see what would happen.

As Vladimir came stomping over, Scarlett halfway expected the ground to give way under his feet every time he took a step, like he was some monstrous creature. She whimpered, clasping her hands together to her chest and clenching her jaws tightly shut. He was definitely going to kill her. And he wasn't going to make it quick. But what if she could try to talk to him? Do something to calm him down? It had worked once before, maybe it would work again. Fat chance, but she had to try.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she shook her head back and forth in guilt, her eyebrows turned upward in pitiful cowardice. "Please forgive m—"

Vladimir struck her hard across the face, making her wince out loud and fall on her rear. A prickling sensation formed in her eyes as her face began to bruise. The scavenger that had taken her rifle unslung it from around his shoulder and held it out to Vladimir.

"You want this back?"

Vladimir ferociously seized it and chucked it into the bushes several yards away. Without thinking, Scarlett scrambled onto her hands and knees to crawl towards it, but she only made it a short distance before being shoved, face-first, into the mud by a grimy boot.

"Where do you think you're going?" Vladimir growled so menacingly that it sent chills through her. With a voice like that, he could be the monster in a horror movie. He rolled her onto her back and roughly pulled her up by the front of her jacket using both hands. "You ran from me."

"I…" She was at a loss for words. She had never seen a face so evil.

"You betrayed me!" Vladimir threw her back to the ground.

"No!" she shrieked. "I'd never! I-I just—"

He rammed his foot into her gut, not willing to hear any of her excuses. Scarlett fell onto her side and clutched her stomach. Her gut felt like it had just underwent a belly flop in a swimming pool; that deep, aching pain that took her breath away. Scarlett felt his foot strike again and she curled into a ball, bringing her knees to her chest and covering her head with her hands. He delivered another blow, this time to her shins. Then, one to her hip. With the next one, she heard a sickening sound right before she perceived something sticky and warm dribble down her chin, almost gluing her mouth shut. She wailed and grabbed her face, wondering what on earth he had done to her nose. When was he going to stop? Each strike felt like he was shattering her thin frame. She was sure her already wearying bones were going to break if he didn't cease.

"Please! I won't run again, I swear!" she begged. She had been thinking death would have been preferable to being stuck as Vladimir's sex slave, but this pain was borderline unbearable. Her body screamed at her to get away, but she didn't have the energy to dodge the punches or even throw one herself. Perhaps she had been wrong. Maybe being with him for the rest of her life wouldn't be so bad. She just couldn't disobey him _ever_ again. The logical side of Scarlett's brain knew it was wrong to think like that, but she wasn't sure of anything at the moment. She just wanted the pain to stop.

"Please," she sobbed into the grass. She had halted all movements, lying as still as a wounded animal, much like the wolf she had killed earlier. She knew how it felt now, when it had been on its last leg of life. It felt like shit. "Please," she breathed, taking a few more quick breaths before speaking again. "I'm sorry…I promise…I won't do it again," she shook her head on the ground without even looking up at him, instead choosing to stare at the bark on a tree further away. The side of her head was caked with mud as well, but she couldn't care less at the moment.

It seemed that her begging had worked because Vladimir ceased his blows for the moment and her body rejoiced at the relief. She cautiously moved her hands away from her face and opened one eye to see Vladimir stooping down at her level, balancing on the balls of his feet. Had she gotten through to him? Did he believe her? Was he going to let her live?

He shook his head in disappointment, a stern look set in his features that told her he was unyielding and that it was foolish to think otherwise. "Sweet words won't save you this time, girl."

Scarlett's face fell. Vladimir grabbed the back of her head and bashed her skull into the ground. A headache erupted, overtaking her entire brain, and the pain in her nose exploded into a sensation that she's never experienced before. He kept ramming her head into the grass and mud and Scarlett was certain that he was cracking her skull open. Her ears developed that powerful high-pitched ringing noise. Her vision blurred as Vladimir wound her hair around his fist and pulled her up so that she was on her knees with her back to his chest.

"Don't you pass out now. We're not finished yet," he snarled in her ear, his Russian accent strong. He picked her up by her torso and flung her entire body towards the old hut. Scarlett crashed into it, ricocheting against the wooden structure and knocking a few boards out of place. She was pretty sure that a rib or two was at least fractured by now, if not broken. She wasn't sure how much more pain she could take. She could hardly move at this point and her vision kept going in and out. She wished someone, anyone, would step in and demand that this was enough. There were a few people around acting as bystanders. Why weren't they trying to stop this?! Were they cruel?! Did they just not care?!

Scarlett's attention was diverted to Vladimir lifting her into the air by her neck. She knew he was strong, but she didn't realize that he possessed _that_ much power. Or maybe she had just lost _that_ much weight by being starved to death. She held onto his arms and kicked her feet, trying to get her footing on something. Her supply of oxygen was running low. Her face was turning purple.

 _Die…I'm gonna die. This is it._

No, not like this; not without some kind of fight. If she was going down, she was going to make him remember her as more than just a pathetic weakling. She felt around for the filet knife in her belt.

"You knew what would happen if you ran. You knew…" Vladimir muttered, loathing thick in his voice. He watched her as she struggled to take in precious air for her lungs. Her eyes kept opening and closing as she choked like a fish out of water. The malicious glare on his face intensified as another wave of anger came over him. "You knew and you still fucking did it!"

Scarlett glowered and raised the knife to plunge it into his chest, but Vladimir quickly halted her small wrist in mid-air before she could deliver the blow.

"You think you can fucking kill me?!" he bellowed, pushing back against her arm as she fought to impale him. He slammed her wrist so violently into the wall behind her that it made her release the knife with a yelp. "I gave you everything! I kept you alive! And you repay me by doing this?!" he hissed, spit landing on her face. "You're nothing but a dumb cunt! A worthless _shlyukha_!"

He began to squeeze harder. The carbon dioxide continued building up in her system. She needed oxygen. Her lungs and brain were crying for it. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes tightly and squirmed in Vladimir's grip so that she could take in air, but his grip wouldn't loosen. He wasn't going to give her the chance to live. He was going to wring the life out of her until her soul was no more. The darkness began emerging. It was growing…growing…

 _Kill me, God. Take me away. Please…_

She was certain that she was so close to leaving the world behind that she didn't hear the rustling in the distance.

"Whoa! What the fuck, Vladimir?! Good thing I'm not Father Mathias right now because I'd have your head for killing precious cargo!" someone exclaimed and Vladimir immediately retracted his hand from Scarlett's neck.

She slid down the wall and landed on her knees in a coughing fit. Finally, she could take in beautiful oxygen! She gingerly put her fingers to her throat and her neck exploded in pain from the tenderness. She was definitely going to have some serious bruising. But she didn't care. This newcomer saved her life! She raised her head to hear what the man had to say.

"You need to get the girl out of here and quick!" he warned Vladimir. "Some of the outsiders from the new wreck have already gotten past the gate down by the shrine. I don't know what your plans are with her, but if Mathias sees her with you, you're toast."

Vladimir scowled at him and grunted. The rest of the remaining men stared at him. "Are you all deaf?! Get to your positions! Tell the others to do the same!"

Scarlett watched as everyone began to depart. Another ship wrecked here?! And brought _more_ people?! Just like her? Is that why she hadn't recognized that girl's voice from before, the one that had been talking to Mathias? But then, that meant…these men were going to capture and kill them too. The same as her and her crew. She wished she could warn these people somehow; to tell them to stay away from anybody they didn't know.

Vladimir pulled the last person aside and spoke to him in a hushed tone. Was he telling the peon to kill her? To rape her? Or was the man simply going to watch over her until he returned? She knew it wouldn't be good, whatever it was. She felt the blood drain from her face when Vladimir turned to glance at her briefly, giving her the evil eye. Once he received a curt nod from his minion, he began walking away from the clearing, keeping eye contact with her for several seconds before tearing his gaze away and disappearing from sight.

The unnamed scavenger approached her, his face devoid of emotion. "Get up."

Scarlett could hardly move. Her entire body was wracked with pain. "I…I can't," she whimpered. She wanted to cry, but she suspected that would only make her feel worse, especially her head and nose.

"Get the hell up. Now!" he yanked her to her feet and Scarlett fell into the man as her legs briefly gave out beneath her. "Don't make me carry you," he warned.

She used every ounce of strength she had to spare to stand upright and the scavenger tied her hands behind her back. He started leading her up the path, but Scarlett knew she was in no condition to walk. Her injured ribs ached when she inhaled, like every breath was contributing to the cracks in her bones. She had a murderous migraine and her heartbeat was in her ears. Whenever the skin around her mouth stretched, she felt the dried, caked blood crack into sections, making the surface of her skin look like the parched earth of a desert. She stopped several times along the way to catch her breath and attempt to rest, but the scavenger had no sympathy for her. He wrenched her from the ground every time and continued to move her forward. She wasn't sure where the man was leading her, but one thing was certain: she could not go back to a life with Vladimir. She had destroyed all his trust in her and she could never regain his favor. And knowing him, he was going to take his anger out on her. He would make her suffer even more so than what he had just done to her. And this would only be the beginning. He was probably going to torture her until she couldn't take it anymore and just dropped dead. Her last days would be filled with agony and fear. Unless she could…do something…

Oh God, she didn't know if she could do it again. It had worked on Vladimir, but on someone else…

She had to try, though. If she didn't, then there would be no chance of surviving whatever outcome was on its way. She would never have the chance to return home or see her family again. It was now or never.

She abruptly sank to her knees, causing the scavenger to be pulled back once more.

"C'mon, get up!" he jerked her arm with urgency.

Scarlett raised her head. "What's the rush? I can hardly keep up," she panted.

"Vladimir's orders."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you even follow him?"

"'Cause he'll have my ass for dinner if I don't," he snapped.

Scarlett inclined her head. "So, you're scared of him?"

"No shit, Sherlock. We're all scared of him! And he makes sure to keep it that way. Now, let's go!" he tugged on her and she got back to her feet. They only made it a short distance before she asked another question.

"So, you always do what he tells you? Even if you don't agree with it?" Hopefully, that sparked something in him.

The man kept walking and only gave her a sideways glance. "Yeah," he mumbled, staring straight ahead as they traveled. Scarlett noted the way he answered: quietly and dismissively.

"Why?" she whispered, her eyes becoming full of pity.

He frowned. "I have to."

"But…why?" she halted again. "You still have choices. It's not like you're a sla—"

"Because I _have_ to," he repeated with a sneer, getting fed up with her inquiries. In reality, she was no different from him. She had taken orders from Vladimir because she too had been afraid of him. But those days had to come to a close. She could not submit to him any longer. She wasn't going to continue to be like this man before her.

"You're stronger than you think," she shrugged, offering a consoling look. "You should try to be more assertive. Then maybe he would treat you better."

He shook his head. "I don't think so. I may be a pussy, but I ain't stupid. I've seen what happens to people who speak their minds."

Scarlett pursed her lips. She was going to have to be more direct. "Okay, then tell me," she changed her tone to be more casual, "if Vladimir hadn't given you any orders, what would _you_ do with me?"

The man bluntly responded, "Bring you to Father Mathias."

Scarlett mentally slapped her forehead in annoyance. She didn't anticipate that he was such a stickler for the rules. She was going to have to make her intentions even _more_ obvious.

"Oh, c'mon," she scoffed in a joking manner. "What would you _want_ to do? No threats or anything." Scarlett could feel a lump form in her throat as she watched his eyes travel down her body and the only thoughts that ran through her mind were nightmarish. The man glanced at her chest and Scarlett wanted to kick him in the groin. An inkling of a smirk emerged on his lips as he subconsciously stroked at his beard. She wanted to haul ass at that look, but kept her feet firmly planted where they were.

 _It's the only way_ , she told herself.

He took a step closer to her and in a voice deeper than before, answered, "I'd like to do things with you."

Scarlett involuntarily squirmed at his velvety tone, but at the same time, she was ecstatic that he was taking the bait.

"What things?" she cocked her head innocently, but mentally kicked herself for how she had just said the words. It was too saccharine. She just knew it. He wasn't going to fall for that.

He nodded his head all the same and chuckled, "I think you know."

Scarlett felt nausea creeping into her gut. This was wrong. It went against everything that her conscience was screaming at her, but she had to ignore it.

She moved towards him this time and their chests were only about a foot apart now. She had that feeling again like she was in a dream or an actress playing a part in a movie. This didn't feel real.

"You'd have to untie me first," she whispered, like she was telling him a secret.

"I don't know. I kinda like the whole 'you-being-tied-up' thing, but—woah! Wait a minute!"

Scarlett's stomach dropped as he recoiled from her. She instantly knew a red flag went off in his mind. He regarded her with doubt, squinting his eyes at her to try and figure her out like he would a puzzle. He pointed his index finger at her and Scarlett's face went devoid of color.

"Oh, no. No, no, no," he shook his head at her. "I see what you're tryin' to do. You're tryin' to pull that card on me like you did with Vladimir. Well, I'll tell ya, I won't be fooled! Plus, if we were to get caught, well…that'd be a shot to the head. Or the nuts," he looked off to the side and grimaced at the imaginary scenario.

Scarlett went into panic mode. She was losing him. "But no one's around," she insisted, gesturing to the area around them with her head. He followed suit, his eyes scanning their surroundings. She was growing impatient. She needed him to want her. Maybe reverse psychology would work.

She sighed in defeat, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. "You're right. I don't even know why I try. You're too smart for me," she shrugged. "But if you bring me back to Vladimir, he's going to kill me. I know he will. But you…you can save me. All you have to do is let me go. You can tell a little lie and then we can meet back up somewhere and I'll repay you however you want. I swear. You name it, I'll do it," she ended. That sounded like a good offer, right? What guy would resist that?

No, no, no! What was she saying?! This was crazy! Had she become so deranged that this was the only way to get out of any situation now? To suck up to men and offer her body in exchange for her life?

 _No, that's not you. You're only saying these things to get him to let you go. It's not like you'll actually go through with it. Who cares what you say?!_

"That sounds tempting," he told her while shifting all of his weight onto one leg, unconvinced, "but you're not going back to Vladimir."

The seductive act came to a screeching halt. "What?"

"He ordered me to take you to Father Mathias," the man said and grabbed her. "Now, we've wasted enough time talkin'. Let's go!"

No, this had to be some mistake! Why was she being handed over to their leader? What would he do with her?

"Bu-but…why?" Her voice cracked.

"'Cause you screwed with Vlad, that's why!" the scavenger exclaimed. "You messed with his head and made him look like a fool! And he don't want nothin' to do with your traitorous ass anymore. Now, c'mon!"

No, she had to do _something_!

"What about you?" she pulled against him so that he would stop walking. "Would you still want me?" Not that it took much effort to make, but she hoped that her large, pleading eyes would sway him.

"After what you did to him, hell no," he shook his head.

Scarlett didn't even breathe as her mind anxiously rifled for words that could be stringed together in a sentence that could get him to stop in his tracks. "Really? Am I not pretty enough?"

He continued walking, but admitted, "Not as much since Vladimir fucked up your face. You were plenty hot before that. I just don't wanna get in trouble."

"You wouldn't," she shook her head to reassure him. "Just let me go and say that I was too much to handle. And the next time I see you, I'll…repay you," she ended in a small voice.

He halted and faced her. "And how, pray tell, would you possibly do that?" he raised an eyebrow, surely amused at what she'd come up with.

"I could…" Oh, God. She had to come up with some kind of incentive.

 _Just say something, idiot!_

"I could give you…some very special treatment," she whispered, giving him an enticing stare. Scarlett sank her teeth into the inside of her lip at the thought of the vile words leaving her mouth. She couldn't believe she had just said them out loud for someone to hear.

The man's eyes continued to stare hard into hers. A smirk eventually made its way onto his lips.

"You're quite the lil' minx, aren't you?" He seemed to be interested again, yet he didn't let his amusement get the better of him. "But how would I know that you wouldn't screw me over in the end too?"

Damn, how was she supposed to make him trust her now? She was going to have to act sincere. She had an innocent-looking face. She could pull it off. Scarlett sighed and softened her eyes. She _really_ hoped this would work.

"Because you're not as cruel as Vladimir, I can see that," she explained. "And I would appreciate someone nice after all I've been through." She paused. She didn't need to talk about herself. He didn't want to hear about her sufferings. The conversation needed to be about him, how he would benefit from this. "I know it's rough out here, living like this with the whole outside world living in luxury. It's not fair. But if you give me a chance, I can give you some of that comfort back. I can give you a break from this hell. And you would not be disappointed. Life is too short for disappointments. Just please…give me a chance," she pleaded. If that didn't sway him, she didn't know what would. That performance was Oscar worthy. The man only stared at her, mulling over her words as if trying to find the slightest hint that she was lying. She only hoped that he would take her offer.

He pursed his lips and then exhaled. "You're right, girl," he confessed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "It is hard out here, so damn hard. All of the time. We need some escape."

Scarlett nodded along with him. "Please, just let me show you…"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "How about now?"

Fear struck Scarlett in her gut. The nerves in her stomach clenched so tightly that she thought she was going to be ill. "Now? At this very moment? You wouldn't want me to clean up first?" She knew she looked a mess with bruises everywhere on her body and blood covering the bottom half of her face. Her nose was probably somewhat crooked as well.

"I don't mind," he shrugged, "I've had a lot uglier than you. Actually, if you didn't look like you've been through the mill, you'd be the prettiest I've ever had. Now, how about a little sample before I buy the product?" he winked and smiled gleefully. Scarlett knew she should've attempted to hide her alarm, but she couldn't stop her eyes from growing twice their size. This was not part of the plan. He was supposed to let her go and she'd never meet up with him again. Oh, God. She couldn't please him. And she didn't want to think what would happen if he forced her to.

"But what if we get caught?" She was giving herself time to back out, to come up with an escape. No matter what, she was not going to touch this man.

"What?! Now you're trying to talk me out of it?!" he questioned in disbelief. "I swear…women," he tsked in disappointment. "I'll just bring you to Father Mathias if you won't do it."

"No!" Scarlett promptly cried. "I'll do it."

"Then, don't look so miserable." His eyes twinkled as he lifted her chin up from where it laid at her chest. "It's supposed to be fun, right?"

Scarlett did her best to offer a smile, despite her mind going to pieces. She nodded absent-mindedly, looking between his legs, terrified of what was there. But her eyes caught onto something else at his waist. It looked like a sword or a machete was strapped at his belt. If she could somehow get that, she could have the upper hand without having to go through with the deed.

"I did like that part when you suggested that I say you were too much to handle," he snickered. "You have a bit of a wild side?"

Scarlett shrugged timidly, her eyes glued to the weapon at his waist. "What do you think?"

He leaned back to get a full view of her like he was examining a painting in its entirety. "I think it's in there," he said, scrutinizing her face with one eye squinted, "but it's buried deep down. We might have to get it to come out."

Scarlett blushed. If this was an entirely different situation, she might have found his words flattering. To take her mind off of her heated face, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Spencer," the man replied, his grin becoming wider and revealing yellowing teeth.

"Good to know." She ramped up the seduction, wishing she could have taken a shot of whiskey before saying the next sentence. "I might need it for later." She prayed to God that sounded alluring because in her mind, it wasn't convincing in the least. She was apparently in the clear, however, because he said nothing of it. So, she moved onto the next step; the step that made her unsure if she could keep up this façade. She carefully kneeled down in front of him, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She was teetering between maintaining her composure and breaking down in tears at the very familiar situation. She couldn't even feel her injuries right now due to the amount of adrenaline in her blood. He went to unzip his pants, giddy with excitement like a kid in a candy store.

"You know, I could do a lot more if you untie me," she dared to peek up at him. His smile faded. She gave him an innocent shrug. "I like to use my hands. They get what my mouth can't," she hissed.

His face contorted into a look of tortured desire. "Oof, hard to say no to that, but this is just a sample. You don't need to go full blast on me just yet."

"How would that be fun, though? You wouldn't get the full effect."

He shrugged. "Anything would be fun in my book. And I figure if you're pretty good at half-assing it now, then you'll be a real firecracker later on," he moved his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Scarlett bit her bottom lip in frustration. _Oh, fuck it!_

"Look, I will suck you dry if you untie me right now. I want you to trust me. I already trust you. And when we meet back up later, I'll do more than just blow you."

Spencer visibly clenched his teeth together at her words, like he was faced with the worst dilemma of his life. "Ah, fuck…alright," he exhaled before shoving a finger in her face. "No funny business, though. Otherwise, deal's off."

Her eyes lit up and she shook her head. "No, sir. Nothing at all."

He leaned down to reach behind her and Scarlett didn't move a muscle, despite his crotch practically in her face. The rope dropped from her wrists and she instantly felt lighter. Still, she didn't move. It would have been too obvious to instantly rebel.

"There. Happy?" he asked in a playful mock.

"Mhmm," she hummed, trying to decide the right moment to act.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," he reached for his belt. As he went to unbutton his trousers, Scarlett clutched his package through his pants with a death-like grip. Spencer jolted at the change of pressure on his member, but didn't reject it. Instead, he chuckled. "Damn. You're squeezin' a little tight there, kitten."

Scarlett pressed her lips into a thin line and met his eyes with a serious, almost sinister, stare. His face changed from eagerness to bewilderment in a split second. Taking advantage of this moment, she reached out and snatched the machete from his side. He jumped back, his jaw to the ground in shock over how she had just bamboozled him. She rose to her feet and he retreated even further when she pointed the blade at him. He turned around to look behind at the sound of running water. She had him between the point of a blade and the edge of a ridge with a waterfall gushing downward. It was a long way to the bottom. He held up his hands in surrender and a sly smile slowly made its way back across his lips.

"Ah, you got me, you little minx. You got me good," he wagged a finger at her.

"Let me go," Scarlett demanded, keeping the machete trained on him with both hands, "or…or you're going over."

Spencer scoffed. "Do you even know how to use that?"

"I know enough!" she tightened her grip on the handle.

"Why don't you hand it over before you hurt yourself? It's not a fucking toy." She walked forward until the blade's tip was touching his chest. Spencer narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare. I'd shoot you before you could do anything." His hand hovered over the right side of his hip where a holster was strapped, like a gunslinger ready for a duel.

"Try me," Scarlett growled, sticking the end of the machete further into him.

"You fucking….bitch!" He snatched his handgun with lightning speed.

"NO!" Scarlett instinctively brought up her right leg to kick him right in the pelvis. He stumbled backwards and waved his arms in circles through the air in an attempt to regain balance, but it was all in vain as he ended up falling back, disappearing over the edge. Scarlett immediately peered over and saw him screaming before he vanished, blending in with the rushing water. She slapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief and got as far away from the ledge as possible.

 _Oh, fuck…I…_

 _What the hell, Scarlett?! You killed him! No, wait, that's not even the worst part. You came onto him and_ _ **then**_ _you killed him! That's even worse than the man you shot before!_

She was certainly going to hell now. How could she have let herself sink so low? It had only been a few days and already she was no better than any of the men on this island. She was a horrible human being. What was the point of even continuing on if she was this monster? What would her family say to her if they just witnessed what happened? Scarlett sniffled and wiped her burning nose.

 _You're wasting time,_ she told herself. _Get the hell out of here now!_

She nodded. She had to keep moving. Her body ached and pleaded for rest, but she prayed that her adrenaline would keep the severe pain at bay until she found somewhere safe. She went back down the path, hoping that her weapons were still lying where they had been dropped. They had better be. Otherwise, she'd be bringing a knife to a gun fight.

* * *

Everything hurt as she ran. She knew breathing through her nose was a no-go, so she was forced to take in air through her mouth as she ran, but it only served to worsen the pain in her ribs. She was thankful for the speculation that she shouldn't meet any men along the way, but she clutched the machete tightly in her grip just incase.

Scarlett reached the clearing where Vladimir had beaten her to a bloody pulp and everything seemed to have been set on fire; the huts, piles of debris, bushes, everything. It wasn't this way when she left. Not wanting to wait around to find out what was going on, she picked up her knife near the shack and finally found her rifle after scouring the bushes. She frantically stood up when she witnessed bright beams of light shining in her direction. She gasped when they kept coming closer and dove into the hedges along a short, cobblestone wall.

"Damn this group," someone cursed. "They just had to go and make things messy."

Scarlett crept along the wall as the men walked past her, her heart beating wildly against her ribcage until they were out of sight. She snuck into the nearby hut that she had been thrown against earlier. A few moments went by safely without any threats. In the background, however, Scarlett could hear screams crying out into the forest before they were followed by gunshots. The scavengers must have been hunting these survivors from the new wreck. Scarlett sat on her butt with her head against the wall, trying her best to not recount the events of the past. This was just like her first night here, though. It was the night that had taken her life away, the night that began her horror story. She held her rifle against her shoulder, prepared to pull the trigger on anyone that came through, and stared between the wooden panels of the hut. It was getting harder to filter out the screams of panic, of mercy, of pain. She physically grimaced after she heard a gunshot and the victim was choking on what she assumed was his own blood. She closed her eyes tightly and even whimpered when she heard someone laughing manically at the sounds. These men were _insane_. How long was this manhunt going to last? A few more minutes? Hours? All night? She craved to cover her ears to block out the madness, but thought it'd be best if she remained ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

Rushed footsteps came in on her left and a young woman about her age barged into the hut beside her. Her hands were bound behind her back. She was breathing heavily and had beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and temples. There were also patches of perspiration on her blue tank top. Her dark hair was made up into a messy ponytail with bangs framing each side of her attractive face. Scarlett pointed the muzzle of her gun at her and the girl's eyes grew in apprehension. She shook her head at Scarlett with upturned eyebrows and anxious brown eyes, silently begging her not to shoot. Scarlett hesitantly lifted her head from her gun's sights. It actually felt strange to see another female after all this time. They gawked at each other, not saying a word.

Another set of heavy footfalls began to approach and both of them froze, not even breathing for fear of giving their hiding spot away. Whoever it was sounded extremely close. Then, a rough voice speaking in a foreign language nearly broke their self-control.

Scarlett saw Vladimir through the spaces between the wooden boards. His pace was deliberate and, finally, he stopped altogether in front of the shack. Scarlett gripped her rifle with white knuckles and hunkered down further into the corner, ready to blow his head off if need be.

"No one escapes," he finally said. Scarlett's blood went cold. He knew she was there. "Out!" he ordered, aiming a pistol at the entrance. She positioned herself to aim her gun at him from inside the shelter, but the other girl reluctantly stepped out of the hut. So he was after _her_? Is that why the girl had looked so alarmed? Scarlett needed to sneak away now while he was distracted, but she couldn't find it in herself to move. Something nagged her to stay where she was, to not leave this poor girl at his mercy.

Scarlett could barely make out what was happening, but when she saw Vladimir push himself against the girl, she wrinkled her nose in revulsion. Was he going to rape her too?!

In response, the girl grunted as she brought her knee up to sock him in the groin.

 _Good for you, girl!_ Scarlett mentally applauded. _He deserves that!_

The young woman took advantage of Vladimir's brief vulnerability to flee, but he snaked his arm out and slammed her back against the hut. Now, he _really_ forced himself onto her, his hands gliding over her waist, hovering dangerously close to her breasts. He put his mouth to her ear and growled what was probably a threat to her in Russian. Scarlett knew if something wasn't done to stop him, he was going to rape her on the spot.

Vladimir suddenly let out a yell and grabbed the side of his head in pain. What did the girl do? Bite his ear? Scarlett watched her charge forward and collide into him, knocking him off his feet. The pistol fell out of the holster at his hip and the girl scrambled for it, miraculously fighting her way out of her bonds in the process.

Scarlett internally chanted: _Go, go, go! You got this!_

The girl grabbed the gun in the grass and rolled onto her back to aim, but before she could fire, Vladimir was on top of her, wrestling for the firearm. The sight of his large frame over her made Scarlett stiffen. She could see the struggle and desperation of the young woman underneath him, very much mirroring her own behavior every time Vladimir forced himself upon her. Scarlett needed to stop him or, at least, get him off of the girl. She wasn't going to just stand there while Vladimir killed or raped another person, not if she could help it. She gripped the rifle in her hands and ran out of the hut.

"STOP! Get off her!"

The girl under him stopped writhing and Vladimir turned his head to look at Scarlett in rage, keeping his grip on the pistol in his and the girl's hands. Scarlett stared at him the same way she did when she pointed her rifle at him the first time: determined. But she was also experiencing something she hadn't anticipated: terror. She'd thought she'd have no reservations whatsoever about killing him, but she was petrified staring at him right here and now. She was scared to kill again. She's already done it twice. She didn't want her kill count to rise.

Vladimir utilized her frozen state to wrench the barrel of her rifle towards him, pulling the entire gun from her grasp and throwing it some fifteen feet away. He yanked the pistol from the girl trapped under him and pointed it at Scarlett, whom put her hands in front of her in fear.

"Back off," he barked. Scarlett took a step back. She made eye contact with the other girl, whom gave her a nod. What did that mean? Scarlett instantly found out when the girl struck his crotch with her fist to make him retreat from her once more and lose possession of the handgun. Scarlett retrieved the machete at her side and charged right at Vladimir, throwing all of her weight into him, and was quite surprised when she caused him to fall to the ground.

 _Kill him! Kill him!_ Scarlett's mind screamed.

She swung the blade sideways and Vladimir hissed, clutching at his chest. When he pulled back his hand, his palm was smeared with red. Scarlett was stunned to see blood seeping out of the wound, the stains on his dark shirt growing in size. She had done that. Shehad _harmed_ him.

"Fucking _shlyukha_!" he snarled, attempting to find his way back to his feet.

Scarlett raised the machete above her head to attack again before it was too late. She brought it down to strike his skull, to end him once and for all, but Vladimir stopped the weapon, grabbing it with his hand in mid-air. He pushed the blade away from him, making more blood trickle out of his palm.

"You cannot kill me, _little girl_. How many times do I have to tell you?!" he stood up dauntingly slow, still gripping the blade. Scarlett's arms moved with his actions. She felt so small. He was about to kill her.

He ripped the machete from her grasp and it landed somewhere in the distance opposite of her rifle. He struck her in the side, forcing Scarlett to her knees. He then brought his fist down between her shoulder blades. She landed on her stomach and he rolled her over with his foot until she was facing upright.

"Stop! I'll shoot!" a voice cried out. It was the other girl. She was pointing the pistol at him with two hands. Vladimir heaved Scarlett in front of him to act as a shield and positioned his hands so that one was holding her forehead and the other was clutching her chin.

"Drop the gun. Or I break her neck," he threatened. Scarlett could hardly breathe to begin with, but now, she was hysterical that her head—her life, her fragile life—was within Vladimir's hands. She desperately wanted the girl to just do what he said. She wasn't ready to die.

"Drop the gun," he repeated.

The girl stuttered, "I-I'll shoot…"

He clutched Scarlett's head tighter, his fingers digging painfully into her face. "Drop it!"

"No!"

Scarlett was shaking uncontrollably. "Please…drop it," she whimpered, her eyes becoming glassy with tears.

The brown-eyed girl was frozen in place. She was virtually crying herself. Still, she remained trapped between pulling and not pulling the trigger. If she didn't make a decision in the next couple of seconds, Vladimir was going to choose for her.

"Drop it! Now! Or I kill her!" Vladimir barked impatiently.

The girl's voice cracked, "No, please don't—"

The hand Vladimir was using to grip Scarlett's jaw jerked a small distance to the side to earn a loud wince from her. "NOW!"

"Drop the damn gun!" Scarlett shrieked, her voice elevated to a whole new octave.

Vladimir clutched her head even tighter. "Do what the _shlyukha_ says! Last chance!"

"No! Let her go!" the girl demanded, her facial features contorting into a scowl.

"Then she DIES!"

The muscles in Vladimir's hands contracted to sever Scarlett's spine at her neck, but before he could complete the action, a gunshot went off. Scarlett closed her eyes and screamed, yet she couldn't hear her own voice. The ringing in her ears blocked out everything. The pressure around her head had been lifted and she felt a force pull her to the ground. What happened?!

Scarlett opened her eyes and whipped her head around to see Vladimir in a ghastly state. She gasped and quickly scurried away from his side. He was flat on his back and his face was mangled, like the bullet had torn through the skin on the side of his head. He had blood splattered all over his hair, face, and chest. He was still alive, however. Scarlett found that she couldn't move. She's watched people die before, but all of those had been quick deaths. This one wasn't so quick. Or clean. Vladimir was suffering as his breaths became spastic. Hadn't this been what she wanted, though? For him to die so that he'd never hurt anyone else ever again? Maybe, but she wasn't sure that she had wanted it to be this…violent. She began to feel worse as he mustered enough strength to extend his arm towards her, like he wanted to touch her, to grab her hand for comfort. A deep raspy sound came from his throat as he coughed. It scared Scarlett. It didn't sound natural. She became even more frightened when he finally managed to touch her boot with his fingers. She could've kicked his hand or stomped on it, but she was frozen in place. She couldn't pull away. There was this odd pity for him, but was it right for her to feel that? He was a monster. He's murdered and raped numerous times without remorse. Scarlett stared into his eyes, implanting the image of his shattered face into her mind. He stared back at her, holding her gaze.

" _Shlyu_ … _kha_ ," he croaked and squeezed the toe of her boot until his fingertips were white. Then, he went quiet. His breathing stopped. She gradually slid her foot back and his hand dropped onto the grass with a soft thud. He was dead. Vladimir was gone. He couldn't hurt anyone anymore. Scarlett's eyes lingered on his motionless, bloody face. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel.

 _Should I be sad? I mean, I wanted him dead, but I didn't think it would be this bad._

 _No, you should be happy!_

 _But he just_ _ **died**_ _…right in front of me and he reached for_ _ **me**_ _in his dying hour. Was that supposed to mean something?_

 _Now, you're just making stuff up. He was dying, Scarlett. Nobody ever wants to die alone. But now that he's gone, you can move on. You can leave._

Scarlett turned to face the other girl, whom was sobbing uncontrollably and dry heaving. "He's dead," she told her in a shaky voice.

The girl's head shot up. "I…He…I was only trying to save you! I didn't want to! I swear I didn't! I'm so sorry!"

Scarlett didn't notice until now that she had an English accent. She stared back at the pool of blood forming around Vladimir's head. All of the surrounding blades of grass had become that crimson color.

"Who are you?!" the girl swiftly got her attention back and Scarlett looked to see her pointing the pistol at her even though it was emptied of its last cartridge. It shocked her since she had done nothing to harm her thus far. Why would she think that she was against her?

"You're not with them, are you?"

Scarlett furiously shook her head and the girl lowered the gun, much to her relief.

"Well, we should leave before more of them find us."

Scarlett sat motionless and trembling as the girl began to walk away.

"Aren't you coming?" the girl pivoted after not hearing any footsteps behind her.

Scarlett couldn't form words, much less coherent thoughts, as to what was spinning throughout her head: sadness, guilt, relief, gratefulness, fear, and since this girl asked her if she would follow, wanted.

"Someone will find us if we don't leave. We need to go."

Scarlett glanced at the body. She couldn't stop _staring_.

The girl tried again, "Look, I don't know what all you've been through, but we really need to leave. Now."

She was right. Scarlett knew she was. They were sitting ducks right here and they were going to be killed if they stayed. Scarlett gave a timid nod. She collected her rifle in a daze. Screw the machete. She didn't have time to search through every shrub for it. She turned back around to face Vladimir again. She could loot his body right quick. He might have had the ammunition for her rifle on him. She cautiously rummaged through his pockets with a disturbed expression on her face. She had a paranoid feeling that he wasn't really dead and that he would sit up to wrap his hands around her neck and choke the life out of her at any second. She finally found the box of ammunition that matched her rifle and decided to take his pistol as well. She stood back up and wondered if she should say something to the body. Should she curse it? Or tell it sorry? The other girl didn't give her a chance to decide.

"We need to move," she urged as they heard men shouting in the distance come closer.

Scarlett nodded again and began walking away. One step, two steps, three, four. She could do this. He didn't have control over her anymore. She dared to look back at the corpse one last time.

He was gone. No more. Finished.

She turned back and continued walking to accompany this unknown girl, leaving the body without any last words.

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 **A/N:** **Thank you to Nemesis1944, the 2 guests, and Smiling Seshat for reviewing. I'm glad that people are still reading the story and actually like it.**


	14. Day 5: Night

**A/N:** **So, this got out a lot later than I wanted it to. I usually edit a future chapter before I post the next one and, right now, I'm struggling with the final chapters of the story. I have a draft written out, but I'm going to scrap it all and redo it completely so that it doesn't seem too unrealistic. The good news is that this chapter used to be, like, 5,000 words, but I pretty much doubled it. I don't know whether or not that's good for you, but I love longer chapters, so it's good for me. I also want to remind you that while this story is following canon, it's more of a "same time, different place" type of story, so that we can see other characters' interactions in the game (particularly Solarii). In short, Scarlett will not be glued to Lara's hip the entire time. Don't know if that makes it or breaks it for you, but I just didn't want to go through the motions of retelling the entire with the only thing being different is an OC. I just wanted to get a little creative and think outside the box. Thank you for being patient and for reading! :)**

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Scarlett followed the English girl, doing her best to keep up with her upper half lowered so as to not attract any unwanted attention. The girl ran across a rickety, wooden bridge held together by ropes. Scarlett hesitated upon seeing it sway back and forth from the new weight and motion. Wasn't she scared that it wouldn't hold her? If she was, she sure didn't show it. She ran across like it was nothing. If it could hold her, then it could hold Scarlett. They weren't that much different with regards to weight. She had no idea why she did it, but Scarlett glanced to her right at the forest floor below. Maybe it was to help her realize that crossing this unreliable-looking bridge was the only way forward. She couldn't see too much past the tree tops, but she could see the lights of various fires and hear the screams of innocent people begging for their lives followed by the cackles of scavengers as they hunted the newcomers like prey. Scarlett whipped her head back to the bridge and witnessed that her traveling companion had already made it to the other side and was waiting for her. As if reading her thoughts, she motioned for Scarlett to come towards her.

"C'mon! It'll hold!" she exclaimed, waving frantically.

Scarlett gave her a timid nod and placed her right foot on the first board. She could feel it sink under her weight along with the ropes binding it stretch.

 _I can do this, I can do this. Just go!_ she coached herself. She forced her left foot in front of her onto the next board and felt the same sinking feeling. It made her stomach feel as if she were descending on the Tower of Terror; that sinking feeling that her gut was dropping towards her feet as she was falling. She didn't mind amusement park rides, but this was nowhere near the same. She clenched her teeth and forced herself to move and keep moving until she got to the middle of the crossing. That sensation that she was plummeting to the ground intensified tenfold and she scrambled to latch onto the rope railing for dear life; not that that would have helped any.

"I promise it'll hold! Don't think about it. We need to hurry!" the girl urged. How the hell was she so brave and confident that this wobbly thing wouldn't collapse?!

Scarlett reluctantly unwound her arms from the railing and began progressing two boards at a time. The binding stretched, but they never gave way. When she made it to the other side, she let go of the enormous breath she had been holding that contained all of her nerves. What a relief it was to be on solid ground again! The unnamed girl gave her a nod, her brunette bangs bobbing with her head. Scarlett stared at the back of her head as they went forward. Who was she? Where did she come from? How did she get here? Were those all of her people getting slaughtered back there? It felt like déjà vu, like she was watching her first night here on the island all over again. But this time with different results. This is what could have happened if Scarlett hadn't been such a chicken. She was free now, but it was four days too late. Instead, she had to go through horrors that she wouldn't wish upon anyone and have to live with it for the rest of her life.

The two girls ascended a set of stone stairs that led through a decorative archway that had probably been once painted a brilliant crimson. It was now a faded pink. The mystery girl came to an abrupt halt when she heard a masculine voice pleading for mercy up ahead. Scarlett shrank back.

"Please!" the voice begged before a piercing gunshot was heard followed by silence and occasional low muttering. Only the crackling of fire and the whispering of the trees were heard as the branches' leaves danced with the wind. A chill rushed through Scarlett, producing goosebumps up and down her body. The English girl turned to her.

"Can you shoot that rifle?" she whispered.

"Yeah…" Scarlett trailed off and nervously turned to glance at the rifle slung at her back, "are you gonna make me shoot them?" Fear was churning her gut.

"You'll have to. I'm empty," she held up her handgun to show that the slide was locked back with the barrel exposed. Scarlett bit back a sigh.

"You don't have any arrows?" she tried to peek over the girl's head to look in the quiver she had strapped to her back.

"No, they took them."

"Dammit," Scarlett cursed under her breath.

Sensing her unwillingness, the girl told her, "You stay here. I'll see how many of them there are."

"Okay…" Scarlett gnawed on her bottom lip as her new acquaintance crouched low to the ground and proceeded forward. Only a few seconds ticked by, but it felt like an era. Scarlett tapped her foot repeatedly and was trying to recall how many rounds she had left in her rifle before she remembered that there was only one left. She looped her thumb into the sling to lift the rifle from off her shoulder right before she heard a short, high-pitched cry. Snapping her head towards the sound, she unslung the lengthy firearm and gripped it firmly in her hands as she crouched low and raced up the rest of the steps. She saw the girl was slumped against a couple of wooden crates and clutching her upper right arm. Blood was pooling between her fingers as she squeezed a nasty-looking wound.

"Got another one!" a rugged voice yelled from several yards beyond the crates.

"Are you okay?!" Scarlett whispered, her eyes moving to the motionless body of a man that was wearing a pair of fisher's overalls. This wasn't good.

"Yeah," the girl winced. She signaled her head to the side, "There's a magazine right there beside the deckhand."

"You're not thinking of…" Scarlett didn't even finish because her worst fear had come true as the girl leaned over on her side and snaked her arm out from the cover of the boxes to the body's side. "What're you doing?!" Scarlett hissed. Was she wanting a death wish?! "I can just—"

"Outsider, we know you're here!" one of the men shouted. The girl gripped the magazine in her hand and slid it into the pistol. Scarlett thought about the handgun that she had taken from Vladimir and touched it through her pocket. It would sure be faster to use than the rifle. She slowly put the rifle away and revealed the smaller gun from its hiding place, wrapping her hand around the textured grip. She stared at it, wondering how long Vladimir had his hands on it and how many people it's killed. It didn't seem too personalized. There were no engravings or markings on it. Maybe he randomly picked up from somewhere; or somebody. She didn't know how many rounds remained in the magazine, but she knew there was at least one since the chamber wasn't opened yet. She dug in her pocket to find three leftover cartridges from that dead man she found in the forest, Dominic Pecheur. She went to reload, but there was sudden movement beside her as the girl brusquely got to her feet without any warning and extended her arms to aim the gun.

"Wait—" she squeaked, eyes wide with shock and panic.

"Oh, shit! Gun!" one of the scavengers called out, obviously not expecting any return fire. Scarlett stuck her head up over the boxes to get a survey of the area while the enemy was distracted. There were two scavengers several meters from them with a crumbling oriental building behind them. The doors that led inside were shut tight. There was also a hut to their right that was currently on fire. Other than that, there was nothing except for hedges and a rock wall. In a way, the girl had led them into a corner and unless they took out these guys now, they were going to become trapped mice. The unnamed girl began firing and managed to shoot one man in the chest while he was scrambling for cover. Scarlett wondered if these crates were filled with something that would stop a bullet in its tracks, like sandbags or some kind of metal. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the girl next to her raised her voice.

"Stay away from us!"

 _Right, like that's gonna stop him_ , Scarlett sarcastically mused.

"Us?" the person raised his head behind the box with an arrow notched onto the string of his bow, yet not ready to fire. His eyes scanned the areas for an additional survivor, but he stumbled back in shock as he was shot in the shoulder by the girl. Scarlett cringed. She imagined herself getting shot in that exact spot and could only imagine how much pain this guy must be in. He's trying to kill her, though. Pain is the only thing that would make him stop. The girl let off another round since he remained standing and, this time, shot him in the neck. There was an uncomfortable gargling sound that ripped from his throat, but he went down and stayed down. It didn't feel real at all. It seemed too easy to take out men like this.

"I would've helped," Scarlett meekly told the girl as she stepped out from behind cover. The girl proceeded to loot the bodies for anything she could use.

"Don't worry about it. I caught them off guard, so it wasn't too bad," she dismissed. Not too bad?! She could've died! Scarlett went to open her mouth, but as she watched the English woman rifle through the gear of the corpses at lightning speed, she concluded that this wasn't the time to argue about this. Moreover, the girl probably didn't want to think too hard about what she was doing, so she decided to leave it be.

"Find anything?" a voice shouted in the distance, making both of them jump. Men were hot on their tails. They needed to flee the scene. Now!

Another person answered the first man, "Not yet!"

Approaching the barred double-doors of the rundown ornate building, the girl held up an axe that seemed to be crudely constructed out of wood and stone.

"Here, I can open this," she offered and Scarlett gave her room to work while she wedged the blade part of the axe in-between the doors and the metal rod that kept them sealed. Scarlett held onto her pistol with both hands and kept a close watch on their surroundings. With the girl pushing all of her weight into the handle of the primitive weapon, Scarlett nearly cheered out loud when she heard a clinking sound and the door on the right side was sharply flung open. The girl was first to slip inside and Scarlett was right behind her when, out of nowhere, an arrow with a flaming tip struck the right side of the left door. Scarlett let out a shriek and leapt back, petrified by the sudden appearance of flames. That arrow could have easily pierced her arm or her side! Flames would be eating their way through her vulnerable flesh right now! Before she could think to bypass the arrow and join the girl in the hideaway spot, a pair of large arms seized her from behind and pulled her back against a broad chest. No, no, no! Not again! She wriggled within the person's grasp, straining forward towards the open door. The girl stretched out her arm to grasp Scarlett's wrist, but another flaming arrow flew through the air and penetrated the inside of the door she had passed through. A third arrow was sent to go through her head, but on a whim, she grasped the door handle and jerked it closed before it went straight through her face.

"No! No! _NO_!" Scarlett screeched as she watched the building now being engulfed by flames. She was crying for the girl and herself: the girl because she was going up in flames; for herself, because that was someone else that she knew had died. And now, she had no one to watch her back anymore. She was on her own.

"Get off! Get OFF!" She wasn't about to go back with to these animals. No way in hell was she going to let that happen. Armed with one of the greatest adrenaline rushes she's had to date, Scarlett shoved the heel of her boot into the man's shin. Hard. As hard as she could muster. It must have been enough because a girlish squeal sounded from behind her and Scarlett brought up the pistol still in her possession. Aiming at point blank range, she shot his chest, making drops of blood splash on her already dirty face. The scavenger went down immediately and let out a croak before he went silent. Scarlett only saw in her peripheral vision that she had run out of rounds as her slide had went back and the chamber was now exposed.

 _Shit._

"Get her!" a deep voice ordered from somewhere behind her.

 _Double shit._

Scarlett bolted, but was swiftly overcome by a second pair of arms. No, no! She wasn't going back! She dropped the empty pistol and wrestled for the knife at her belt. She wrenched her captor back and forth, throwing her weight in every direction to get him off of her, but he was stuck to her like an oversized leech. She finally gripped the knife in her hand and, with a grunt, dug it into the person's hand with as much force as she could. It felt sickly to stab something so firm, yet fleshy. The person exploded with a scream and the arms released her, prompting her to scramble away once again. She felt heat fly past her face as a third man, who was invisible up until now, shot an arrow at her. Scarlett ran a few paces before she turned around and threw the knife at the bow and arrow man, hoping it would at least frighten him and cause a distraction for a few seconds. He ducked down into the shrubbery that he had previously been hiding in and that was all she needed. She scrammed back towards the opposite direction she came: down the stone stairs and across the wobbly bridge. She didn't even hesitate crossing it this time.

Eventually, she was back in the area where _he_ was. Vladimir. His freshly killed body was still there, lying face up towards the night sky. It looked out of place, like he was sleeping; as if he had been capable of achieving slumber amidst all of the carnage occurring everywhere. She found that she couldn't refrain from staring. The fear that he would get up and stomp over to her with the most malevolent of scowls was just too engrained in her mind. He wasn't really dead. He would just grab her and attempt to strangle her should she get too close. The one thing that did prompt movement, though, was the sound of masculine voices that accompanied beams of white lights coming up the path that she wanted to head down. Her head whipped around frantically, searching for a place to hide. There was the hut that she had previously hidden in before, the one where she had met that no-named girl, but that seemed like too obvious of a hiding place. Those men could shine a light in-between the wooden panels and spot her instantly. Instead, she got down on her knees and forced herself into the bushes that functioned as edging of yet another tall building that possessed intricate architecture with an Asian-styled roof; not unlike the one that was set on fire with the girl inside. Scarlett didn't want to imagine what these men would do to her if they found her alone with Vladimir's body. She parted two branches that were in her line of sight as the people made their appearances and immediately caught sight of the wounded corpse.

"Holy sh…woooaaahhh" one of them circled the body.

"That's Vlad. Is he really…" A second breathed. The one that had spoken first lifted the body's arm with the top of his foot and let it plop back to the ground. He got down on one knee and got extremely close to the dead Russian's face. The other's watched him with bug eyes due to his proximity. The man leaned an ear to the mouth.

"Not breathing," he murmured and then bravely tapped the cheek several times before the body's face turned to the opposite side from the force.

"I think he's dead, dude," the person next to the second man spoke. Their body language told Scarlett that they were flabbergasted, maybe even in awe. Their mouths were agape, yet they were silent as their eyes were glued to the dead man before them. And when they weren't gawking at the body, they looked to each other, as though the other person would know what to say or do. If Scarlett wasn't so unnerved at the moment, she would find amusement and satisfaction at the fact that they were acting like scared pups without a master. "Who do you think did this?" the third man asked after what felt like several minutes of quiet.

"Surely not one of us?" a fourth and the smallest of them wondered. "I mean, I haven't heard of any mutinies being planned, though right now would be the best time to have one." The entire party turned their heads to him. "What?" he held out his hands in front of him. "It wasn't me. I've been with you guys the whole time. And I sure don't have much to spare to pay somebody to do it for me. I may have not cared for the guy, but I didn't think he would go before I did."

"You think it was one of these new ones?"

"Could've been. Hard to believe, though," the one kneeling over the body suggested. He seemed to be the head of the group. "They would have to have a serious set of kahunas to do _this_ , though," he pointed to the mess that was Vladimir's face.

"The Russians aren't gonna be happy about this…" the third one shook his head and bit his lip.

"We'll get to that later. For now, we'll keep hunting the survivors. There's still a group of them out there. And we could use some more recruits," the leader stood up. They began to walk to the right of Scarlett and she could feel the tension in her stomach loosen a little the further they walked.

"What do we do with the body?" one of them asked.

"We'll bring it to the palace in the morning, I guess," his leader said. "The Russians will want to see it. They'll give him a ceremony or something."

Seconds later, Scarlett sensed her gut tighten again in fear at the sound of different footfalls charging closer and closer from behind. The party that was retreating halted. Scarlett turned her head and without pushing any flora aside, she recognized the incomers as the two men that had tried to take her captive just minutes ago. One of them was cradling his bloody and injured hand gingerly to his chest and the other one, the one with the bow and arrow, appeared unharmed. Her knife then apparently had dealt no damage. The two men nearly fell over as they came to a complete stop at seeing the corpse in front of them.

"What the fuck?! Is that Vladimir?" the one clutching his hand wondered in disbelief.

"We found him like this," the leader of the group of four men came forward.

"You think it was that girl?" the unharmed man turned to his comrade.

"What girl?" the leader asked. Scarlett felt terror rising in her blood.

"A girl just got away from us. She was heading this way."

"We didn't see no girl," the spearhead narrowed his eyes.

"She just stabbed my hand," the man showed his injury to the leader.

"And she threw a knife at me," his companion added. When no one from the group responded to the claims, the scavenger with the bow scanned the area with sharp eyes. "She couldn't have gotten too far. Help us find her?"

Scarlett wanted to shrink more into the bushes. She leaned back into the greenery, hoping the crackling fires that littered their surroundings would drown out the noise of any snapping twigs.

"She's gotta turn up sooner or later. There's only so many places to run."

Scarlett heard the voice, but didn't even want to know which man it belonged to. She curled into a ball as the six of them spread out. One checked the hut that she and the other girl used to hide earlier. She knew someone would. It was a logical hiding spot. Two of them headed down the path that she was initially heading towards and another was scanning the land down below, attempting to make out shapes despite the tree tops. The last two circled the perimeter of the building she was nestled against, one going clockwise, the other counterclockwise. The one that was going clockwise, the one that she had thrown her knife at, was getting closer. Scarlett covered her eyes and put her head on her knees, hoping her dark hair would conceal her in the green and brown foliage. The scavenger violently kicked some of the nearby bushes, but it only resulted in leaves separating from their branches. Scarlett raised her head and peeked between her fingers. She felt something ticklish on her hand and went to scratch it, but her eyes got really huge when she saw what had settled on her.

It was a brown spider, with a body as big as her thumb.

"Shit!" she gasped and swatted it off, trying to scooch as far away from it as possible. Only it kept creeping towards her. People said that spiders are a lot more afraid of people than people are of them, but Scarlett severely doubted that was the truth. Why would this otherworldly, creepy-ass creature keeping crawling _towards_ her if it was afraid? She scrambled out of the bush and dumped herself onto her rear out into the open, only realizing her mistake a second too late. She got up to flee, but the person closest to her cried out and charged, tackling her so that they landed in the dirt.

"I got her!" he yelled, summoning his comrades. Scarlett rolled onto her back and pushed against the man's chest with both her hands, but her efforts were nil against his burly physique. He snatched her wrists, one in each hand, and pushed back against her attempted lashes. He had a devious smile on his sweaty and grimy face and was even laughing at how she was fighting him. Not knowing what else to do at this point and certainly not about to give in, Scarlett used what was most readily available: her teeth. She jerked her right wrist back towards her mouth and before the man realized what she had on her mind, she sunk her teeth into the inside of his wrist, the fleshy part that displayed his vulnerable, blue veins. She bit as hard as she could, not even registering the taste on her tongue, and the man pulled back with a curse. Scarlett then balled her free hand into a fist, brought it near her left cheek, and swung her hand into the right side of his face, just as she had seen Vladimir do when he fought against those three guys. The scavenger was momentarily stunned by her ability and that allowed her to crawl out from underneath him. Not three seconds later, however, she was grabbed by the shoulders and forced to stand up. She swung her weight from side to side, attempting to squirm free. The leader held onto her, encompassing one arm around her torso and the other around the back of her neck. His fingers squeezed her tender flesh until it hurt and he yanked her head so that she was forced to look back at Vladimir's body.

"You did this?!" he bellowed in her ear. She didn't think these men even cared about their superior this much.

"No!" Scarlett cried. He dug his fingers into her neck harder. They felt like five little daggers piercing her all at once.

"Don't lie to me! It'll get you nowhere!"

Scarlett continued to struggle in his grasp. The remaining scavengers grouped up to see what all of the commotion was. She counted all six men. "It wasn't me! Honest!"

The one on top of her, their supposed "leader" growled, "Let's just see what his brothers have to say." He began directing her forward with one hand keeping hers restrained behind her back and the other still wrapped tightly around her neck. The others followed behind them.

Scarlett swore she wasn't going to go through this again. She made a solemn promise to herself and dammit, she never broke a promise once in her entire life. She never made one lightly. It'd be foolish and disloyal, even if it was to herself. She had to fight. She always had to push back.

Scarlett halted abruptly, causing the leader to walk right into her back.

After an "oof", he pushed her forward. "Go!"

"You don't have to do this," she told him and timidly glanced behind her, only being as high as his chin. It was a long shot that she would be able to talk him into letting her go, but she felt compelled to, at least, _try_.

"Yes. We do," he answered curtly and stubbornly pushed her forward. Scarlett was on her last leg. She had to do _something_. She stopped walking and felt the familiar knock of him bumping into her for a second time. "What the hell's wrong with you?! You asking to get killed?" he shouted at her back, as she was too nerve-wracked to even spare him a glimpse.

"This is gonna hurt," she whispered, more to herself than anything.

"What's gonna—" Scarlett went to jerk her head back to head butt the man in the face, but it was already too late as she realized the height difference between them. He had to be more than half a foot taller than her, but hopefully, she could sock him in the chin or the mouth. Her head smashed into something hard and angular and she was actually happy when pain exploded in the back of her skull. A questionably masculine yelp accompanied her own and it was like music to her ears. She didn't even wait to feel the release of pressure from her neck and wrists; instead, she lunged out of his grip and curiously spun around to see what harm she had caused him. The sight of red caught her attention near his mouth and nose and though he was trying to cover it up he was failing miserably.

"God—SHIT!" he cursed, closing his eyes and jerking his head to the side, as if to ward off the pain. He pointed his index finger at her. Scarlett could see blood leaking onto and around his teeth. She wondered if she had any in her hair. "You are gonna get it, you little…" he trailed off at the sight before him.

Scarlett was aiming her rifle straight at him. How she had not fumbled with it getting it into her hands and on her shoulder was a mystery to her, but she wasn't going to question it. She put on her bravest face and grit her teeth. The other men behind him were peering over his shoulder, a couple of them bowing their heads, hoping that she wouldn't see them, and the rest of them staring right back at her with slits for their eyes.

 _Don't. Don't. Don't,_ Scarlett kept chanting in her mind, keeping the glower and determination plastered on her features. If she didn't chant, then her thoughts of how she only had one round left in her rifle would filter through and plague her mind with doubt. She would turn into a puddle of gush and then start to stutter, giving away her bluff of being a no-nonsense, "you won't take me alive" type of person. She couldn't falter. She couldn't let her cover slip.

The lead scavenger flicked his hand to the ground to rid himself of excess blood. He pointed at her gun, seeing the cocked hammer behind the barrel. "What are you gonna do with that? Kill me?" he breathed and formed a smile on his bruised lip.

"Perhaps," Scarlett answered. How was she even talking straightly? "Let me go."

"Can't do that. We've got orders," he shook his head and took a step forward. The men behind also advanced with him as if they were his posse. It made the situation all the more intimidating with five men to back him up, all of them armed. It made Scarlett grip the firearm all the more tighter, if that was even possible. He grinned, clearly loving how tense and nervous he was making her. It made him appear even more wild with the uneven, thin stubble on his chin and shoulder-length, oily hair surrounding his face like a mane. "There's no way out of this. You're outnumbered. And even if you _did_ know how to use that thing like a man, you wouldn't be able to take us _all_ out."

"Oh yeah? How much you wanna bet?" Scarlett hissed. Oh boy, was she bluffing! Even she didn't think she could shoot them all before one would get to her either, but they didn't need to know that. They just needed to think she was a kick-ass marksman that could take them all out where they stood. That's how a lot of cowboys or outlaws got away from their enemies in old Western movies that her dad would occasionally watch: they bluffed and bluffed, making themselves seem more powerful than they really were. It was an amusing thought of her being the outlaw because outlaws were usually bad people. But since she was on an island full of hostiles, she was the black sheep, the one that wasn't abiding by their rules. Back to the matter at hand and to Scarlett's upmost surprise, the leader actually had the audacity to approach her and grab the rifle by the barrel, pointing it away from his chest. Scarlett's jaw dropped for a measly second before she flashed her bared teeth like some kind of wild animal.

"Why don't you give this to me and no one gets hurt? Little girls shouldn't play with guns," he told her in a patronizing voice.

Scarlett scowled and came back with, "Pretty ballsy to say that when you're on the wrong end of one." She was distinctly aware of how short the bullet would have to travel in order to hurt him. Just one pull of the trigger, one tiny pull with the curve of her finger and he'd be dead. She should just do it now to prove a point to the others. Though, she would have to high-tail it out of there and retreat in order to reload because there was no way these other guys would let her get away with shooting their leader at point-blank range in front of their very eyes.

"Dammit, just give it to me!" The long-haired man yanked the entire rifle towards him, but Scarlett redirected the barrel just enough to aim it at his head and hastily drew the trigger back. The bullet raced out of the muzzle faster than lightning and ripped through the scavenger's scalp, leaving a trail of blood and gore through his dirty blonde hair. He didn't even have time to let out a cry; his mouth only opened before he slumped to the ground, dead. Scarlett didn't have enough time to register the horror of what just happened in front of her face before the noise of another gunshot next to her redirected her attention elsewhere. The yells of the other scavengers weren't even processed by her brain. All she could do was scan the group to find that the man, whose hand she wounded, was holding a gun in his opposite hand. The shot seemed far off and Scarlett was relieved. She either must have hurt his dominant hand from before or he was a _really_ bad shot. She absentmindedly cocked her weapon to reload, having forgotten that she was now wielding an empty firearm, but when she only heard the click of the hammer, she knew she was rendered defenseless.

With a gulp, she took a step back from the angry men in front of her before wheeling around and bolting off like a frightened doe. She bet she even ran in place for half a second, like how Scooby-Doo's legs would start the motion before he actually gained any distance away from a monster or ghost. Her hand dove into her pocket at the bottom of her jacket as she dashed down the stone steps and fished out her box of ammunition. She really should have taken them out of the box and let them all rest in a pile in her pocket so that she didn't have to wrestle with getting individual rounds out of the nice and orderly box. She fingered the cartridges in her palm and felt along the side of the gun for the loading port, slipping them in one by one until she counted to five, all the while looking where she was running so as to not trip over anything and keep her distance from the rowdy men. Fully loaded, she glanced behind her to see her pursuers several yards back, aiming their weapons at her while expertly navigating the terrain. Scarlett stopped in her tracks and turned to face them head-on, her rifle aimed at the one that was outrunning the rest of the group. She aimed the gun and took the shot, knowing that her aim was spot on when the first scavenger grabbed at his chest. His legs kept running forward, but the shock and force of the bullet made his upper body recoil and he crashed to the ground on his back, sliding forward through the dirt just a few inches.

Scarlett reloaded and scanned for her next victim. She spotted one wearing a beanie and aiming his pistol at her before she was thrown off-kilter as something made contact with her upper left arm. At first, she had no clue what it was until a splitting pain exploded in the area just milliseconds later. Oh God, the pain was excruciating. It was one of the worst sensations she's ever felt in her life. She let out a violent yell and staggered backward onto a knee in disbelief at what she saw: a long, skinny arrow had embedded itself on the outside of her arm, just above her elbow. She couldn't believe her own eyes. Was she going to die? Arrow wounds were some of the hardest to tend to and she sure didn't know how to deal with it. There was no time to fret over it, however, as the whooping of one of the men brought her back to her impending doom. She watched them approaching, getting closer and closer, wondering if she had the strength to raise her weighty gun to shoot them all now that she was gravely injured. Should she just surrender now?

"C'mere!" The men steadily charged like racing horses. They were a little over a rock's toss away now.

No! That wasn't an option. No more surrending! She would die fighting!

Scarlett clenched her teeth together, put all of her weight on her back leg, and positioned the rifle on her right shoulder. She hurriedly glanced into the scope to see the very broad chest of the scavenger closest to her and pulled the trigger, not even taking notice of the rifle's recoil, and shot the man with the maimed hand square in the chest. She jerked the lever of the lever-action rifle forward and back again with lightning speed to reload and shot the second person dead. She reloaded and took out another, cocked the weapon again, and shot another. She readied the gun again, feeling like a war machine and seething to boot. She found the last man a good distance away from her, however, his arms were held up next to his head in surrender with a gun pointed at the sky. She could tell he was younger, perhaps in his early thirties, and his blond eyebrows were pulled together in apprehension. Did she really _scare_ him? Was that even possible? Scared or not, she took the chance to intimidate him.

"Get the hell out of here before I shoot you too," she barked at him and he gave her a nod before scampering off like a frightened pooch.

Scarlett let the muzzle fall to the ground and plopped to the ground in relief. She was amazed at herself with how she kept up a brave face in front of those thugs. She didn't think it was possible, but then again, she was discovering a lot of things she didn't know about herself over the past several days. Some things good, some of them not. She rotated her left arm to observe the injury and the sight of the lengthy weapon lodged in her body terrified her. She coyly touched the thin shaft of the arrow and nearly screamed bloody murder. What was she going to do? How was she going to get it out if merely touching it made her keel over? Maybe she'd get some kind of idea later, but right now, she needed to flee the scene before someone else stumbled upon her and the six downed men. If they were dead or alive, she didn't care. She just needed to get moving.

She power walked back down the path and fished out some more cartridges to reload her gun, still able to pick out shouts of helpless survivors from the new shipwreck and the crazy scavengers hunting them down. She took a right and came to a clearing surrounded by rock faces. The only way to go was through a mass of shrubbery that looked unusually dense. She pressed through it, finding that the further she went, the more it felt like trudging through waist-high sand. She whipped her rifle back and forth, trying to break all limbs in her way, but it was quickly fatiguing her; all of this stress and running around was taking its toll on her. Her arms became weak from swinging her gun back and forth, so she trampled through the vegetation using her legs, stepping on branches to clear a path for herself.

Once she cleared the undergrowth, she slowed down to a gentler pace down the pathway, thinking that men had already scouted this area from earlier, so they wouldn't have any reason to search here again. She came across that shrine that she had previously seen earlier when those two men brought her back to Vladimir. It was composed of a simple, wooden roof and under it was a stone statue of what she guessed was a woman sitting with her hands together, fingers up and palms touching each other, like she was praying. There was a bowl at her feet along with numerous lit red candles splayed around her. The figure even wore a large hat or headdress that had a sun on the top. Was this the Sun Queen? The person whom all of these scavengers talked about? Scarlett put all of her weight on one leg and slouched. She wasn't as pretty as Scarlett thought she would be. Maybe if the sculptors had given her some hair…

Scarlett rolled her eyes at her shallow thinking. She didn't have the time to be standing around and critiquing art. She went down more stone steps, only to come to a dead-end; to the gate she had come through earlier. The barrier was made of solid wood and at the top of it was an oriental-styled roof. The gate blocked her way forward and walls of stone had enclosed either side of her. This wasn't good. Scarlett pushed against the gate with her right shoulder, thinking it'd be worth a shot, but it wouldn't budge. So, she backed up and charged at it, thinking maybe she could put a dent in it with a running start, but the wall proved her wrong and pushed her back onto the stone steps, making her land on her injured arm. Scarlett hissed at the pulsating pain and felt her eyes begin to prickle. She rested her head on the stairs, wondering why life couldn't just give her a break for once. Why couldn't something positive happen to make her life easier? Hadn't she been through enough, being a victim and a murderer and still not one step closer to escaping this hellhole?

Scarlett picked herself up after a short time and observed the terrain around her. There appeared to be no way to get around the gate; unless she dug underground, but that wasn't a realistic option. She'd have to dig through rock. She could try to climb the gate, but it would probably be hell for her left arm. Another option was that she could wait for someone to come through. But that was a huge risk as she didn't want to go through another ordeal like she just went through again. There had to be a way to open the gate from this side. There just had to be; a hidden switch, a lever, something. Scarlett slid her hands down the wall, searching for any weak spots or hidden buttons, but all she felt was the natural surfaces of the wood. This place was completely void of anything useful.

"Fuck!" she cursed and kicked the gate hard. Too hard. Scarlett let out a string of colorful vocabulary and clutched her foot as she hopped up and down on her other one. She could feel the pain thumping through her toes and down to the middle of her appendage. She tossed herself back against the gate and slid down all the way to the dirt, defeated. How could she have come this far, going through hell and back, only to be stopped by a wall? She had killed people for Christ's sake; she had been raped; she'd seen death more than a handful of times; deaths of her friends, enemies, and strangers. She had survived all of that horror and still couldn't find a way to escape. Her face drooped. Maybe…there wasn't a way. Maybe she was meant to die right here. Not all stories have happy endings. Perhaps it was her fate to just sit here and waste away or get taken up again by the savages and put to death. She slapped herself across the face.

 _Stop that, Scarlett! Stop it! Don't think like that! Thinking about dying doesn't do you any good. You're gonna make it to the beach and you're going to get help. You're a smart girl. You'll think of a way to get out of here._

Scarlett pulled out the bag of sunflower hulls. As she sucked the salt off of them and cracked them to get to the seeds, she thought about that girl whom had saved her. Scarlett hadn't even thanked her. And now, she was gone; dead; burnt alive to a crisp. She was probably around Scarlett's age. Scarlett imagined herself in the same scenario: trapped in a building and getting burned alive. She shook her head to free her mind from the morbid thoughts. She couldn't think like that. She had to keep going. She had to get to the beach. And she could do it. For the sake of Zoey, Channing, Connor, and her family, she could do it.

The arrow in her arm had to come out first, though. It was driving her crazy. She didn't want to imagine it getting caught on some branch or knocking it against a hard surface. It would only slow her down. Scarlett gingerly touched the arrow's feathers and extreme agony coursed through her, like someone was twisting a knife in her arm. She released a puff of air and bit her bottom lip. There had to be a way to get it out. She couldn't keep walking around with it. She didn't want to think about it, but she knew she would probably just have to suck it up and yank it out and treat her arm as best as she could for the time being.

She grabbed the long shaft of the projectile and felt her damaged muscles being agitated. Wincing and ignoring her body's pains, she swiftly broke the arrow in half, having seen that stunt in movies multiple times. She let out a scream as if her flesh was on fire. She chucked the broken piece back at the stone steps and pinched the end of the protruding part in her arm. She cried even more. The level of pain was unrealistic. It was making her tremble. She needed to stop. Right now. She couldn't handle it anymore.

She quit trying, noting that she was practically hyperventilating at this point, and wiped her leaking nose. She glanced around her and let out a few shuddering cries. There was no one to help her, no one to tell her how to do this properly. She might have been making it worse for all she knew. Channing probably knew how to remove an arrow head and some of the men on this island might have known a thing or two about it. But it wasn't like they were going to give any pointers to help her out. Vladimir probably knew how to do it t—

Scarlett wanted to kick herself. Her mind needed to stop going back to him. He was dead. And he wouldn't have helped her anyway. He hated her guts in the end. But did he? He said her name before he died. That meant he had known it all along. Was there a deeper meaning to that, like he had cared all that time, or was she just overthinking it and being stupid?

Wiping her nose again, she suddenly heard something turning, like cogs in a machine. She looked behind her and the gate was beginning to rise off of the ground. Had God heard her pleas? Was this His way of helping her?

A raspy voice on the other side of it made her freeze. Scarlett scooted to the left side of the ascending gate and leaned back against the wall, halting her breathing with her eyes wide.

"Anybody there?" the voice asked and Scarlett heard footsteps come closer. A person walked through the gate and Scarlett saw an islander. He was a tall man with a dark buzz cut, holding a pistol out in front of him. "Who's there?" he asked again, continuing to walk forward with great caution. Scarlett would have gotten her rifle at the ready, but the man was so close in proximity that she feared even the smallest movement would make a sound. "I know you're there. Come out!"

Scarlett's hands glided over the lever and the fore stock. If he turned around…

"Chill, man! There's no one here," a second scavenger came bustling through, passing the first one up. This one carried an assault rifle with him. Scarlett wanted to sink into the ground. That gun would blow her head faster than she could blink.

"Maybe it was Sun Queen. Ooohh…" a third voice spoke in a comically spooky voice like he was telling a cheesy ghost story. He passed up the first man and pushed him on the shoulder, laughing.

"Very funny," he commented sarcastically, narrowing his eyes. The three men walked progressively up the path without giving a second glance behind them. Scarlett couldn't believe her luck. Why did they not even think to look around? Scarlett peered around the entrance to the gate to check to see if the way was clear, but saw two more forms marching forward. How many of them were there? She gasped softly and turned back around as the men walked closer. The turning sound of some mechanism could be heard again. The lines on her forehead creased with worry and she looked up to see the gate beginning to descend. Oh, no. This was her only chance. She had to go through as soon as they passed through the gate. She held her position and her breath, keeping perfectly still as they walked closer. The gate was more than a third of the way down. Scarlett's nerves began to intensify. If she didn't make this because they were walking too slowly, she was going to be pissed. The gate was halfway down and they had to duck to pass through. She needed to go now! Scarlett got on all fours and began to crawl.

"You hear that?" one of the men asked, his handgun ready. His partner shrugged. They looked behind them in time to see the gate touch the ground. Their eyes searched up and down the gate, checking the area thoroughly, but there was nothing there. With a "humph", they continued to follow the others.

Scarlett was on her back, smiling and chuckling with joy. How in heaven's name was she able to sneak past them without a fight?! She finally had some luck at last! Getting to her feet, she dusted off her hands and saw the gate covered in shoddy drawings made from some kind of white paint or paste. One of them looked like it could be a person with a halo around his or her head. There were also numerous handprints and some circles with lines coming out of them, like suns. More Sun Queen stuff. These people were really obsessed with her. Two statues stood on either side of the entrance gate, like they were guarding it. Whatever they were, they were ugly. The figures wore decorative robes and headdresses, holding a tall staff in one hand and possessing some kind of small box in the other, like they were offering for her to take it. Scarlett didn't like their faces, though. They looked like evil, bald children with their narrowed, pupil-less eyes. Even as she turned her back on them to continue walking, she felt like their eyes were watching her retreat, like they would somehow get revenge on her for leaving them.

Observing her new environment, she found this part of the forest was almost serene. It was quiet with the wind creating a breeze barely strong enough to wick away the sweat from her face. Hearing a faint rustling from above, she peered upward to see cherry blossom trees losing their pink flowers. One landed in her hair and she delicately plucked it out. Staring at the tiny blossom in her hand, she wondered how something so pretty and fragile could live in a place that was so hostile and wild. Sooner than she would have liked, the wind blew the flower flew out of her hand and she watched it coast through the air until it landed in a bush filled with red dots. Curious of the contrasting colors, she went to investigate like a rabbit discovering a new patch of clover. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the dots were berries. And there were a lot of them! She tugged one off and rotated it between her thumb and index finger to smudge off the dirt, if there was any. She sniffed it. It didn't smell pungent, so she carefully placed it in her mouth. She bit down and scrunched up her face. It slightly crunched, but what was worse was that it was overwhelmingly bitter. Scarlett spit out the red particles and scowled angrily at the bush for tricking her. Curse its thorny leaves and shiny red berries! They had looked so good…

She thought about the fruit that Vladimir had gotten her; the one that she had guessed was a pomegranate. Where had he gotten that from? She stared at the berries again. Maybe she shouldn't have judged the whole bush based off of one measly berry. She twisted a handful off of a branch, scratching her hand on thorny leaves in the process, and tried a second one. It wasn't as hard or as bitter as the first one. She swallowed and tried a third one. Bitter. She spit it onto the ground. The next one: bitter. The fifth berry: surprisingly sweet. Ending on that positive note, she decided to take some for the road. She harvested the little red fruits and filled her side pocket until it was full of them.

There was a growl and Scarlett instantly pricked up her ears. The last time she thought she heard a growl, she had dismissed it for thunder and almost gotten herself killed. She slammed the butt of the rifle against her shoulder and cocked the hammer back into place, making the metallic click resonate through the area. She scanned the shrubbery, forgetting to breathe. She didn't even notice the pain in her left arm anymore as her stomach clenched. She knew whatever was hiding in the bushes had the power to hurt her. And it was not going to show mercy. A crackling sound came from her right. She pointed the barrel there, but then another rustling came from behind her. She whipped around and stared at the mass of thorny underbrush. She wished she had three pairs of eyes on her head at that moment. Something was definitely in there.

"Hey!" she yelled curtly. There was another crunch followed by a snarl. Scarlett slowly backed away from the sound. It was then she saw it: a pair of golden eyes. "Go away! I've been through enough shit today and I certainly don't need yours!" Scarlett shouted at whatever it was, hoping once again that her voice was intimidating enough to scare it off. The eyes got larger as they came closer and it was revealed that they belonged to a wolf. "Go. Away!" she repeated. She couldn't handle any more injuries to her already damaged body. The wolf rebelled and stalked a few paces closer. Scarlett bit her tongue before gasping at the sight of another wolf appearing on her left. They were ganging up on her. She had always known wolves were smart and worked together in packs to catch their prey. Much like orcas. This was exactly what they were doing to her. Why? She presumed she was in their territory and they weren't taking kindly to that. They could destroy her. They knew she was vulnerable and weak. That's the type of prey they revel in. So, she needed to show them that she could fight back; that she was her own alpha and wasn't some weakling that they could pick off easily.

Scarlett aimed at the animal in front of her and took a shot. The bullet entered its shoulder, prompting a yelp from the creature, but the other wolf on her left was already on her. Scarlett grunted and knocked the wolf in the head with her rifle butt and it lurched back. It shook its head to knock off the blow as a third one hopped over the bushes and ran to join in the fight. One wolf, alone, was scary. Two wolves were frightening. Three was just too much to deal with.

Scarlett got up using all fours and scrambled away, desperately looking for a place to hide. She sprinted across a small bridge set over a stream. That was the only landmark in sight where she could possibly conceal herself. There was nowhere else for her to hide on the ground. But even if she hid under the bridge and submerged most of her body in the water, they would just end up sniffing her out. She stopped and turned around in a circle, gazing about in a tizzy. Time was running out. They were going to get her. She needed to go somewhere…somewhere…She peered up. Trees! They were the answer!

She swung the sling on her rifle around her shoulder and jumped on top of a large boulder set next to a tree with low branches. Scarlett seized the branch and pulled herself up, ignoring every warning that her body screamed at her and completely disregarding the concept of how dangerous it was to climb with a loaded firearm. She grabbed the next one and ascended the tree as quickly as she could. She stopped halfway up and looked down to see the wolves on the massive rock with their paws on the trunk, barking and howling as if she was some cat they chased up a tree. One of them jumped and snapped its jaws at her. Scarlett squeezed the trunk and leaned her head against it, breathing shaky breaths. The adrenaline was still coursing through her blood at an intensity she was less than comfortable with, but she was safe. They weren't going to get her. Not tonight. She positioned herself so that she was sitting with her legs straddling the branch and her back leaning against the bark of the trunk. She brought her rifle into her lap and cradled it while staring down at her sore loser pursuers.

Once she had caught her breath, Scarlett awarded her escape with two berries. One of them was acceptable in flavor, but the other was foul. She spit out the crushed fruit and it landed on one of the canine's heads. Scarlett cracked a smile at the revenge. That didn't stop it from barking at her, though. She would just have to wait them out. Eventually, they would have to tire, get bored, and leave. Out of nowhere, something cold landed on the side of her hand. Scarlett flipped it and saw a drop of clear liquid.

 _Oh, nooo…_ she let out long sigh and dragged her hand across her face in despair. Another drop landed on her head and then on her legs. Scarlett pulled up her hood and crossed her arms as a hard shower gradually came out of the sky, soaking her in a matter of minutes. It was going to be a cold, wet night. _Great. Just freaking great! You suck, Mother Nature._

There was nothing that could be done about it, though. She couldn't stop it. And she couldn't find shelter with the wolves still patrolling the tree. At least they had quieted down now. All she could do now was wait everything out. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and began to alternate between staring at the other trees around her and the forest floor. She wasn't sure if she could even sleep in such an uncomfortable position for the night. But between giving relief to her aching muscles and listening to the rainfall, it was only a matter of time before she lightly drifted off without even realizing it. Her head slouched onto her shoulder and she snoozed. And there were no dreams.


	15. Day 6: Before Dawn

**A/N:** **I know it's been a while and for that I'm sorry. Too many things have been happening and my motivation had been reduced to zero. But I'm hoping that getting this chapter up will help to light that spark again. That's my New Year's resolution this year. To work on this and finish it. I will NOT abandon this story. I've read too many stories that have been discontinued and I don't want to do the same. Sorry this is kinda a filler chapter, but I think Scarlett deserves a breather after all that's happened so far. Don't you? Next chapter and the ones after that will be more exciting. Thanks to those who left reviews since last chapter and thanks for reading. Happy late New Year!**

 **Response to Guest** **reviewer:** **I probably won't do anything for Rise or Shadow. I think Scarlett has been traumatized enough for one lifetime. Besides, I think TR 2013 was more exciting than Rise. Still haven't played Shadow yet, but from the reviews I see, I'm not expecting it to be the best thing ever. Just my opinion so far. Games are great, just the story didn't grip me like 2013 did.**

* * *

Something was wrong. She didn't feel right. Her stomach felt like it was trying to squeeze its way up through her esophagus to escape into the outside world. But why? Scarlett snapped her eyes open and felt an intense need to vomit. She clutched her midsection and leaned over the tree branch that she was currently laying across. She gagged and waited, rocking back and forth while doing so. She gagged again and finally felt something emerge. She puked and heard the semi-liquid matter trickle to the ground. She threw up again, the strain of retching so powerful that the blood vessels around her eyes popped, leaving behind red polka dots around and on her eyelids. She knew she looked like shit already, but having red spots around her eyes must have brought her appearance down to a whole new level, like she contracted the plague or something equally dreadful.

She had three more episodes of her stomach cleansing itself, with the last one being pure stomach acid. She was exhausted when she had finally ceased, her abdominal muscles so sore she felt like she had done six hundred crunches. Scarlett spat, trying to clear her taste buds of the vile taste, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She leaned back against the tree truck, taking strenuous breaths and shivering. At least the turmoil in her stomach had died down. Why had she been sick, though? It wasn't like she had eaten too much or anything rotten. The only thing she had consumed lately was…

The _berries_! It made sense now! She pulled out the cloth note she had stolen from the wallet from man in the woods. She couldn't read it well because it was still too dark to see, but she knew exactly what it said.

 _Red=retching_

Dammit! It was those stupid berries! The person was describing the different effects of the different color berries. She slapped the note against her thigh. She felt stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She had completely forgotten the note, much less been focused on solving the cryptic message. She was lucky she only vomited. There might have been a berry out there that could've killed her. Scarlett raised a fist to her forehead and let out a sigh so intense that a small growl came out instead.

"I swear I heard something!" a distant male voice distinctly cut through the serenity of the night. Scarlett's eyes widened and she removed her fist from her head.

"You're just hearing things. Come sit back down," another voice answered. Scarlett searched for signs of men. Some distance in front of her, her eye caught the sight of a campfire that was in the middle of a small clearing. A large cloth, perhaps a parachute, covered the entire site from the drizzling rain. Scarlett became jealous because it looked like a pretty good place to settle in for the night.

She counted one, two, three, four, five men. They were all sitting and chatting around the fire, nice and warm and dry. She wasn't sure if she should stay or run. Being weakened from puking her guts out and sporting an injured arm, she was in no condition to climb down a tree and make a break for it. But she was afraid they would somehow have special night vision goggles and instantly spot her. Scarlett shook her head. It was too dark for them to see beyond their campsite, let alone her in a tree. She wasn't going to get caught; as long as she kept quiet. This was the second time that she had been so loud tonight that some other presence had taken notice of her. What made her even more worried, still, was how comfortable they appeared around the fire, like they were going to spend the rest of the night there. That meant she was going to have to stay in the tree for the remainder of the night as well. Scarlett leaned back once again and kept her eyes trained on the campsite, waiting impatiently for the time to pass.

* * *

Falling. She was falling and she couldn't stop. Gravity kept pulling her down and she was going faster. Faster. Everywhere was dark, yet she knew she was close to the ground now. Her body was going to break when she landed. It was going to shatter like a precious porcelain vase, incapable of repair. She braced for the impact and gasped, feeling the pain of her bones splitting on the earth.

Scarlett flinched and her eyes flew open. It was just a dream. Instant relief washed over her like a soothing wave. She was still in the tree. She was okay—well, not exactly "okay"; more like "no more damage had been done to her" okay. Scarlett could tell the beginnings of dawn were approaching because it was somewhat easier to pick out the silhouettes of her surroundings than before. She checked the camp of men, but the bright light of the fire had gone out. They must have dozed off as well. She recalled staying awake with them for a while, listening to their tales, confessions, and even dirty jokes now and then. Listening to them just simply talking and laughing, it didn't seem like they were complete monsters. They sounded like regular people discussing everyday topics: pains, annoyances, rivalries, women, automobiles, guns—standard manly things. Some were even sensitive or brave enough to talk about their families and/or their feelings. But they must have fallen asleep some time ago to let the fire go out all of the way. Even the guard, who was supposed to be keeping watch for wolves, Scarlett supposed, had his head laying on his shoulder.

Since they were all dozing, she could probably sneak away now. Scarlett noticed a path on the opposite side of the camp. Maybe that could have been a way to the beach. It was only a guess; not like she could ask them which path could lead her to the coast. And if they had come from that direction, they shouldn't have any reason to return back down that path. Scarlett carefully turned her body and embraced the tree before climbing down, visibly shaking from lack of strength and the fact that an arrow remained lodged in her left arm. She made sure of her footing and breathed harder and harder as she moved more and more. Her muscles fibers stretched like old elastic that was brittle. When she finally landed on the rock below, she immediately checked on the sentinel to make sure she hadn't made too much rustling or whimpering to wake him.

Yep, he was still asleep.

Scarlett did her best to carefully note where her feet landed as she made her way towards the camp, making sure she didn't crush any leaves beneath her boots. She stopped three feet from the guard, whom was cradling his rifle in his lap. She got down on her hands and knees to officially confirm if he really was sleeping. Craning her neck to peer up at his drooping head, she could see that his eyes were closed and hear that his breathing was steady.

Check. Time to move in.

Scarlett daringly snuck into the camp, feeling like a trespasser breaking and entering a neighbor's house. This was so risky. Why was she even doing this? Was she crazy? Luckily, there was still the light falling of rain, so some of her steps were kept muffled. Three of the men laid in a line side by side, two of them in sleeping bags and the other on the wet ground, supporting his head on his arm. The fourth man was on her right, curled under a makeshift table to keep drier than the rest. And _every_ single one of them was snoring. Scarlett carefully treaded through the wet grass, trying to keep the sloshy sounds to a minimum. She kept picturing what would happen if she were to get caught: they could take her to their leader, shoot her, or ra—

 _Gah! Don't think about that, Scarlett! Go, just go!_

These guys certainly had the manners of men as she quickly took in the appearance of their not-so-tidy campsite. There were beers cans, wrappers, and cigarettes butts sprawled in the grass. In between man number two and three was a bag, almost like a knapsack. There might be something in there that she could use, but should she even try? It was a group of five of them; there had to be food in there, at least. Maybe even some bandages she could use for her arm once she had taken care of the arrow. She bit the inside of her lip, going back and forth in her mind, getting herself all worked up. She eventually jerked her head to the side in annoyance and suppressed a grunt at her ultimate decision. It was worth the risk.

She grit her teeth together, crawled to the pack, and sat on her legs between the two sleeping forms. She observed the one on her left. He looked to be about mid to late thirties and had a full beard down the length of his neck. The one on her right was snuggled up in the sleeping bag with a pistol in his hand, but didn't look as worn out. He was kind of cute in that rugged, outdoorsy way with his tussled hair and mild stubble. And this was a younger guy. He looked to be around her age, in fact. It made her uncomfortable. What if she had been a man and had to survive this hellhole every day? She wouldn't make it. She'd die within the first couple of days. Scarlett stared at the whiskers on the youthful, but sleep-deprived face. What was his story? Where was he from? When was the last time this guy had seen his family? What crimes had he committed since he got here? How many lives has he taken? And what about people even younger than him? What happened to children that became stranded here?

Scarlett didn't want to think about it anymore. These men might have just acted normal around each other, but when new, defenseless survivors washed up here, they were hostile fiends. They didn't show mercy.

She went to pick up the knapsack, but she swore it was only filled with bricks. She leaned it towards her, quietly unbuckled the straps, undid the drawstring, and lifted the top flap. Her eyes grew twice in size.

It was like finding gold! Pure gold! Scarlett saw a flask, ten bottles of water, two fruits that resembled pomegranates, energy bars, batteries, a lighter, and gauze. She couldn't possibly take it all. It'd be too much weight for her to haul around. Scarlett seized a bottle of water and the frail plastic crinkled very loudly. She winced and the man on her left rolled over in his sleep. Everyone else was still out. She let out a puff of air and wiped the small amount of moisture that had rapidly formed on her upper lip. Being more cautious, she removed two energy bars, the lighter, and some gauze and proceeded to mash all of it into every pocket she had on her body.

She picked up the flask and shook it. There was still some liquid in there. She unscrewed it and smelled inside. Her facial features contorted and she shook her head in repulsion. It smelled like really bad coffee breath. She went to screw the cap back on, but an idea entered her mind. Scarlett wasn't one for revenge, usually, but these men have made her suffer, made her do unspeakable things. She retrieved the remaining vomit-inducing berries in the front breast pocket of her jacket, crushed them in her hands, and slipped the pulp and juices into the flask. She also scooped some dirt and grass into her palm and sprinkled it in. Having taken countless biology classes made her realize that bacteria and other pathogens grew everywhere. Once, for a microbiology lab assignment, she was instructed to take a sample swab of a surface of her choosing and return it to class to let it grow in a incubator. She had chosen to swab the light switch in her dorm room and took a sample. What showed up two days later on the petri dish was astounding. There was thousands of fuzzy and sticky bacteria, mold, and fungi colonies. Scarlett had taken a picture of the dish with her phone and sent it to Zoey via text message just to show her what was growing on a surface that they touched every day. Zoey went crazy and constantly disinfected the dorm for a week. Scarlett had found it funny, but Zoey didn't agree.

Scarlett tightened the cap on the top of the flask back and shook the container to mix the concoction. A not-so-good surprise awaited the drinker.

She was fastening the pack back up when a long howl pierced the forest out of nowhere. Scarlett's ears perked up and she whipped her head towards the woods. She didn't see anything, but she heard a disgruntled snore from the bearded man next to her and backed away.

"Hmm?" Scarlett heard the lookout guard murmur. "I'm awake, I'm awake," he mumbled to himself. She needed to get out of here. _Now_. Scarlett's adrenaline helped her get back on her feet and she leapt over the body of the young-looking man to escape at lightning speed.

The young scavenger opened his eyes a smidgen at the sound of a heavy footstep and thought he saw a flash turn the corner behind the stone wall back towards the old bunker.

"Guys?" he groaned and wiped his eyes. "Guys! Wake up!"

"Wha—?" his partner grunted.

"I swear I just saw something turn the corner over there."

"And I swear, if you keep talking, I'm gonna give you something to be paranoid about," the man underneath the table threatened for having been woken up.

The young man observed the camp. Nothing seemed out of place. He eyed his knapsack and one of the buckles was undone. He frowned and hastily rummaged through the supplies. "Somebody was here! There's a water missing and the lighter's gone."

"Is my flask still in there?" the man under the table halfway sat up so as to not bump his head.

"Yeah."

"Then, we got nothing to worry about," he laid back down and folded his hands on top of his chest before changing his mind and sitting upright again, casually supporting himself on one arm. "Speaking of which, pass it to me," he gestured with his hand.

The young Solarii tossed the container to him and turned to the guard. "Frank, did you see anybody?"

Said man nervously flinched. "Huh, what? No. Nobody," Frank told him. "I ain't seen nobody out here. Wolves howling, but it's been quiet other than that."

"Maybe we've got a thief in the group," the man with the long beard narrowed his eyes and everyone stared at each other with suspicion.

"Well, it ain't me," the guy with the flask confessed and took a drink. He scrunched up his face. "This tastes like shit," he smacked his lips, trying to determine the taste. He poured the rest of the drink onto the ground and dark brown sludge slid out, along with a few small seeds and red pulp. "Aw, shit…" he cursed, realizing what he just consumed. "Alright, who poisoned me?!" he shouted, looking at the group arranged in a line. Everyone's eyebrows were raised, expecting someone to confess, but no one spoke up. "C'mon, if you've got a problem with me, spill it! I know I can be a real dickhead sometimes."

Still, nobody answered.

"Maybe Micah's right. A survivor could've slipped by Vladimir's group and done this," the man two places from the young Solarii speculated.

"Oh, yeah, right!" he snorted. "Those little greenhorns can't survive shit out here!"

"You never know. Every now and then, one of them has the balls to—"

"You really think some little outsider snuck by _all_ of us? Even with Frank on duty?" he pointed his thumb at the lookout, whom raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Maybe…"

"Well, Dennis, you and Micah can go look for him. Meanwhile, the three of us will head back to the village where I will be puking up my guts for the next hour. And if you come back with no outsider, I'll stick all of your noses into whatever's been comin' outta me until one of you confesses."

The man with the long beard leaned towards Micah and whispered behind his hand, "Find someone. Please."

* * *

It smelled worse than vomit, piss, and rotten eggs all mixed together in here. Scarlett tightly pressed her hands against her nose to prevent the smell from entering her nostrils, but it was futile. She seemed to have entered an underground bunker that they were using as a food cellar. From the abundant candles alight, she witnessed huge cuts of raw meat were scattered everywhere and even hanging from the ceiling, like giant frozen hams in a meat locker. Flies were present in the hundreds; certainly not sanitary at all. Not that Scarlett could blame them. There were no refrigerators available. She wondered if the meat she had eaten with Vladimir came from here. If she had known that at the time, she would've probably thrown up. Skulls also adorned the place from ceiling to floor; every ledge and surface where they could sit. And all of them definitely human. There were too many to count. How many people have died and how long have they been dead that they can embellish rooms with this many skulls?

Out of nowhere, a static sound broke the tense silence, like a disc jockey scratching a record. Scarlett turned around and saw a record-playing machine, a gramophone or whatever they were called with a brass colored horn. She cautiously approached it. How could this have gotten out all the way out here? There was even a record on it, which had stopped playing. She ran her finger across the disk, feeling the grooves engrained in it. How did these things work? She could hear her grandparents or even her parents teasing her because she didn't know how to work such an outdated machine. Scarlett lifted the pointed stylus and then randomly lowered it over the disc.

Nothing happened. Maybe she had to turn the crank to power it. She did so and her heart skipped a beat as a strange tune automatically reverberated through the room. The sound waves were so loud because the room was small and they bounced off of the stone walls and metal sheeting. It was a woman singing, certainly, but it was in a different language and it was…eerie. The distance and timing between the different notes made Scarlett feel on edge, as if someone was lurking behind her and scraping their nails on a chalkboard. On the other hand, it was sort of nice to hear some music for a change. It was something to listen to besides her own breathing and footsteps, something to divert her mind from everything else. She decided to keep the track going for the sake of it muffling her movements incase anyone else were to enter the bunker behind her. She turned to go deeper into the tunnel, but it was pitch black. Scarlett took out the lighter she had stolen and rolled the flint wheel to produce a tiny flame. The small light showed the path to be flooded by water, but it was far from clear; varying shades of brown and green. There was no telling how many species of bacteria and fungi inhabited it.

Attempting to search for another way, she saw white tally marks painted on the walls on either side of her. What did they stand for? Days someone has been stranded here? Months? People killed? Whatever it was, Scarlett counted somewhere near fifty marks.

Seeing no alternative route, she entered the water, holding the lighter above her head. This bunker must have been decades old because Scarlett could see tree roots growing through the roof of the tunnel. Rusty metal crossbeams also protruded everywhere, making her nervous with every step she took under the murky water. Tetanus was not at the top of list of things she wanted.

Scarlett came upon a bar blocking her path horizontally. Not wanting her wounded arm to touch any part of the festering water, she swung her leg up to cross over and sat on the beam. Just as she was swung her other leg over, the tarnished support collapsed and she fell into the sewage, becoming completely submerged. Scarlett sprung back up and spit out the repulsive water. It had such an awful taste that she wouldn't mind scrubbing her mouth out with a steel scrubber and a gallon of bleach. She had also lost the lighter when she went under and in no way shape or form was she going to stick her hand down there and fish for something that could take ages to find. Thankfully, a little fire was going in a pot suspended from a chain nearby to provide enough light so that she could see. She emerged from the water and was faced with a three metal walls. A dead end.

"You've gotta be kidding me…"

Scarlett looked behind her into the black tunnel. She couldn't go back. Procrastinating, she saw another drawing of a sun painted on the wall and what looked to be a road sign with a wolf on it and Japanese writing. She didn't know an inkling of the Japanese, but she guessed it was a caution or warning sign. She rolled her eyes. That would have been helpful to know earlier before she was chased up a tree.

She wrapped her arms around her drenched body, brainstorming an idea. Since she had to descend a ladder to get down here, there must have been a way back up on this side of the bunker as well. Whoever constructed this old building wouldn't trap themselves inside with only one exit, right? She gazed upwards and saw rungs built into the wall, the first few snapped out of place and the usable ones just out of reach. Scarlett stood on her tip-toes and even jumped to try to grab the nearest one, but failed. She sighed, balled her hands into angry fists, and stared heatedly at the rungs.

"Damn you…You know what?!" she yelled at the wall, her voice echoing down the tunnel. "I'm going to get out the fuck out of here and I'm going to get to that fucking beach! And _you_ won't stop me!" Zoey was the one that told her that cursing releases some chemical in the brain to provide relief from a stressful or frustrating situation and, hell, it sure did. She was going to get out of here, even if it she had to scale her way out of here by jumping up from wall to wall like some cheesy kung fu movie. Energized by her mini pep talk, she backed up against the opposite wall, got a running start, and leapt to grab at the rungs again.

Yes! She had it! Scarlett propped her feet on the wall and reached for the next rung. Her arm was radiating pain, but she promised herself rest if she got to the top. She embraced each rung and stopped halfway through. Her heart was working overtime and she knew she couldn't go much further. She exhaled and pushed herself to climb. Grabbing a root near the top, she clambered onto the actual ground. She had made it! Scarlett surveyed the area and discovered she was in a one room building. And the only other way out was a door, but it was closed shut. She darted to it, clutched the handle, and went to turn it, only it wouldn't budge, like it had so much rust caked on the hinges that it couldn't open.

"Please…please, c'mon…" she whined and repeatedly tried to turn the handle, but found no success. Scarlett pounded on the metal door repeatedly with her fists until her hands began to feel like they would shatter. She slid down to her knees and sat on her legs, slouched over. She was so tired. So tired of trying. So tired of being careful, using every ounce of strength she had, and faking bravery. She wanted to give up, cry, and eat a whole tub of chocolate ice cream while binge-watching her favorite shows on Netflix while curled up in a soft, fleece blanket. Looking at the door with pouted lips, Scarlett stood up and kicked the door handle with top of her boot.

"Ah—da—fuck you!" She hit it again. "I hate you! I hate this place!" Another kick. "Fuck! Fuck it! FUCK _YOU_!" Each blow was accompanied with an f-bomb until the door burst open and she tumbled to the grass outside. Finally!

Scarlett's eyes lit up when she saw a waterfall with a fast flowing stream. She rushed to it and stuck her mouth under the waterfall, allowing her whole face to become soaked. She coughed, due to some of it going up her nose, but the cool liquid was refreshing. She had needed it. As she gazed around at her new location, she caught sight of a clothed corpse. A very old one. It was so rotten that she could clearly distinguish its skeletal features. Its hands were also bound behind its back. What had happened to him? A more frightening question, what kind of people did this to human beings? This was a place of evil. Of death. Scarlett had never seen such elements of horror outside of a movie. It felt strange that she could touch these dead bodies. She could touch their bones and get covered in their blood. They weren't just on a TV screen anymore; they were right in front of her. They were real. And she was going to end up the same way if she didn't keep moving. But she wanted to rest. She had promised herself.

Shrinking back from the open, she crept to the tree next to the corpse. She didn't notice it before, but there was a long rope tied around its ankles. Scarlett gazed upward towards a prominent branch. Even worse than just being bound, this person was mostly likely hung from there. She knew this was a crazy thought, but she didn't feel alone with this body here beside her. It almost felt like he was here with her. Would it be weird if she talked to him?

"So…how long have you been here?" she asked the corpse in a light-hearted voice. She felt like she was somewhat insane when there was no response. "This place is a deathtrap, huh?" She gazed into the empty eye sockets and could imagine the skull nodding with her. Feeling her hunger returning, she hastily searched for an energy bar in her pocket and opened the package. She felt it was a luxury to have a processed food in a sealed wrapper on an island like this. She took a bite and the sweet and salty flavors were so delicious, she could cry. She didn't even want to finish it because she didn't want it to disappear, but she was starving and within a matter of seconds, it was devoured and she wanted more. Another one was in her pocket. She could if she wanted…no. No, no, no. No more. She had to save it. She looked at the arrow still in her arm and then at the body.

"What d'you think? Should I try to get this little bastard out again?" Only silence answered her. The healing process could begin if she took out the arrow. Scarlett gingerly placed a finger on it and flinched. The area was tender. She tightly closed her eyes. "It has to come out," she told her dead companion. "You know it has to," she whispered. "I'll just pull hard and make it quick. Then, I can wrap it up in the bandages I found."

"Okay," she answered for the deceased man.

Scarlett pursed her lips and grabbed the broken arrow shaft, ignoring the intense surge of pain. She quickly tugged on it and felt a tearing sensation within her flesh and let out a yelp. Tears began forming in her eyes. God, it hurt so badly. It might have been _the_ worse pain she's ever felt in her life. But the object hadn't come loose. Scarlett exhaled and forced herself to try again. It had to come out. She had to get rid of it. Clenching her teeth, she pulled at the arrow once more and screamed. She let go and scraped her nails on her pants, seething. Dear Lord of all that is mighty and holy, it hurt like hell. Giving birth couldn't possibly be this bad. But she had to keep trying.

"One more, Scarlett," she breathed and closed her eyes shut. Clamping down on the arrow with her fist, she pulled with all of her remaining might, not caring how much it hurt. She let out a slew of curses and felt something rip out of her. The agonizing sensation caused her to crumple on the ground and whimper hysterically. It felt like her arm had just been completely impaled. Letting the arrow roll onto the grass, she opened her eyes and was face to face with the corpse's skull. Stars danced in her vision, coaxing her to pass out from the pain. She was a weak, wounded animal and she could go no further. She didn't want to die here, though, gazing into those empty eye sockets of death. But she was going…going…

But then, there was a sound. A voice. A deep voice. Who was it? Hopefully, they would help her. Or maybe they were here to kill her and put her out of her misery once and for all. Honestly, she wouldn't mind that at this point. She heard a second voice. Deep like the first one. She couldn't see who it belonged to. The dots were too many. Maybe the voices were actually angels and she was literally dying, being taken to wherever God deemed her to be.

 _Please help me, God. It hurts so much…_

Not able to hold on any longer, the black, purple, and blue dots overcame her vision completely and she gave into the black void.


	16. Day 6: Daybreak

_Scarlett was hiding under the kitchen table in her house. She held her breath and smiled. Zoey was so close to finding her, but the tablecloth hid her from plain sight. Zoey's footsteps went back down the hallway and checked the cupboard. She opened the polished, wooden door, swiped her hands through the clothes, and released a groan of frustration._

 _"_ _Where are you, Scarlett?!" her voice whined. "I've been looking for you for forever."_

 _Scarlett stifled a laugh. Maybe she should come out now. They've been at this for an hour. It was time for a snack._

 _"_ _Zoey," Scarlett hissed, giving her friend a hint about her location._

 _"_ _Scarlett? Where are you?" Zoey went towards the living room._

 _"_ _Getting colder," Scarlett mumbled. Zoey halted in the kitchen doorway. She went by the stove._

 _"_ _Warmer."_

 _She moved near the sink._

 _"_ _Warmer."_

 _"_ _Zoey! Scarlett! Could you come here for a second?" a masculine voice called out. It was Channing. What did he want?_

 _"_ _C'mon, Scarlett. We'll finish playing later," Zoey called out to her best friend. "He probably wants us to scoop chum again," she laughed and rolled her eyes as she left the kitchen._

 _Scarlett watched Zoey's feet disappear around the corner and she slipped out from under the table with the corner of the tablecloth draped over her head. What could Channing have possibly wanted that badly to interrupt their game of hide and seek?_

 _She stood up and began to start down the hallway. Which room did Zoey go in?_

 _Thump._

 _Scarlett frowned. It sounded like someone bumped into a wall._

 _"_ _Zoey?" she called out, somewhat worried. "Channing? You okay?"_

 _No answer. Another thump._

 _"_ _Guys?"_

 _Then, there was a whimper coming from Scarlett's bedroom. She put her hand on the doorknob, wondering what in the world was happening in her own room._

 _"_ _Zoey?" Scarlett opened the door and gasped, covering her mouth in utter shock. Zoey was on Scarlett's queen-size bed, being pinned down by an enormous figure, whom she recognized was none other than Vladimir. Scarlett screamed through her hand as she observed Zoey's helpless form underneath the burly one. Tears flooded her eyes and it felt as though a knife had pierced her heart. She had experienced the horrors of the Russian, but to physically watch her best friend succumb to the same fate was gut-wrenching. It made her want to die. She wanted to stop it. She wanted to kill the bastard!_

 _Scarlett began to run at the bed, but then halted when a gunshot went off, the bullet penetrating Zoey's skull._

 _"_ _NO!" she exclaimed, tears running down her face. She and Zoey shouldn't have followed Channing's voice. Where was the man anyway? Forcing her eyes away from Zoey's motionless body, Scarlett scanned the room. Channing was nowhere to be found. She looked at Vladimir, whom stared hard at her as he lifted himself off of the bed, pistol in hand. What if Channing was never here? What if Vladimir had used her former teacher's voice as a trap to get the both of them to come to him?_

 _Vladimir placed a foot on the wooden floor and Scarlett took a step back._

 _He took another one forward._

 _Scarlett's breath was trapped in her throat. She couldn't breathe. She had to get away from him. He had no problem murdering Zoey and she knew for a fact that he would have no trouble killing her as well._

 _She turned on her heel and raced down the hallway. She had one advantage, at least: this was her house. She knew the layout; he didn't. She could think of a handful of places to hide right off the bat. She scrambled into the bathroom, slammed the door closed behind her, and dove into the hamper. It was full of dirty laundry and reeked of various body odors, but she didn't care. She curled inside the compact basket like a small feline and placed a smelly shirt and a pair of blue jeans over her head. She couldn't believe this was happening. How did Vladimir even get here? How did he know where she lived? And wasn't he supposed to be dead?! This didn't make any sense!_

 _The bathroom door suddenly swung open, averting her from her frenzied thoughts. Scarlett ducked down further, ignoring the rancid scents that filled her nostrils. She could see the Russian's large form through a space in the woven basket. He stood still, his eyes scanning the lavatory back and forth. He breathed in deeply and Scarlett covered her mouth to muffle her own breaths. He was going to find her. She just knew it._

 _Vladimir's gaze landed on the clothes' basket and remained there. Scarlett shut her eyes tight._

 _'_ _Please don't find me. Please don't find me,' she chanted repeatedly in her head like a prayer. She clenched her teeth together so hard that it hurt._

 _Vladimir kicked the basket and Scarlett folded her lips inward, determined not to let a peep escape her._

 _"_ _Bitch…where are you hiding?" she heard him grumble. He turned and exited the room, his heavy footsteps echoing down the wooden floor of the corridor. She exhaled slowly, releasing her anxiety little by little._

 _She needed to get out of here, to call her parents, police, neighbors, anyone; anyone to come and stop this monster! He was going to wreak havoc on anyone and anything that got in his way. She crawled out of the hamper, happy to discard the soiled clothes from on top of her head, and closed the bathroom door again. She went to the frosted window above the tub, unlocked it, and pushed the screen out. It made a loud, cracking sound before falling to the ground outside. Scarlett gulped and halted. She didn't hear any additional movement from outside the bathroom. Was that good or bad? Screw it! She didn't even care at this point!_

 _She clambered through the window and landed on the summer grass. The sun was so bright that she squinted her eyes. It truly was a beautiful day in her neighborhood in Meridian, Mississippi, but this was not the time to stop and smell the roses. She needed help! But who could help her with this? Justin: her ex-boyfriend! He only lived a few houses down. And he had a gun. She ran through a couple of backyards before finally reaching his and banged on the glass of the back door._

 _"_ _Open up! Help! Help! HELP!" she banged her fists on the door so hard that she was worried that the glass would break. Someone had to be home. They just had to be. The door opened immediately and Scarlett's stomach unclenched itself._

 _"_ _Scarlett! What are you doing here? What is it?" Justin asked. Scarlett kneeled at her former partner's feet and grabbed onto his pant leg._

 _"_ _Oh thank God, you're home! He…he's here! He killed Zoey! He shot her in the head! And now, he's coming for me," Scarlett cried into his leg._

 _"_ _What? Who's here? What's going on, Scarlett?"_

 _"_ _Him! Vladimir! The bastard that was on the island! He's here and he wants to kill me!" she exclaimed hysterically._

 _"_ _Well, what do you want me to do about it?" he shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for ideas._

 _"_ _I don't know! Call the police! Do something! Just let me hide out here for a while. He's got a gun!"_

 _"_ _You want me to go over there and take care of him?" he wondered running a hand through his brown hair._

 _Scarlett shot up and pushed him back by the shoulders, "No, you idiot! He'll kill you!"_

 _"_ _How about if I bring my gun and you come with me?" he suggested. What the hell was wrong with him?! Was he insane?!_

 _"_ _No! What the fuck is wrong with you?! He'd shoot you dead and wouldn't give a second thought about it!"_

 _"_ _Well, I'm going over there, whether you're coming or not," Justin told her and grabbed his pistol in the top drawer of the desk next to the door. What was going on with him? Was he trying to prove something to her? Like how much of a macho man he was? He was going to get himself killed. He walked out of the door and started towards her house. Once he realized she wasn't following, he turned back to look at her. "You comin' or not?"_

 _Scarlett knew she shouldn't, but she didn't want him to face Vladimir alone. She knew she wasn't much help when it came to muscle, but she wanted to bring down Vladimir any way she could and if Justin needed help, she wanted to be there to provide it. She shook her head, sighed, and followed behind him. She knew this was a stupid plan and as she walked, she kept asking herself why they were doing this. If her and Justin were characters in a cheesy horror movie, the audience would smack their foreheads in annoyance and be yelling at them for their stupidity. She couldn't logically explain it, but she felt like she_ _ **had**_ _to go along with her former boyfriend. It made sense in the moment, like it was the right thing to do._

 _"_ _You don't have to do this, Justin," Scarlett told him. "We could just go back and call somebody. I know what he's like. He's nasty and has a really bad temper. It's like he lives to kill. I don't want you to get hurt."_

 _"_ _I'm not scared," the nineteen-year-old boy said quietly. This couldn't be real. Any normal person would turn around and avoid the danger; not go towards it. They reached the back door of Scarlett's house. It appeared unharmed._

 _"_ _Are you ready?" Justin asked her, his hand resting on the curved door handle. Scarlett shook her head. Her stomach was in knots once again._

 _"_ _What about you? Aren't you afraid?" she questioned. Justin held up his revolver and pulled the hammer back with his thumb._

 _"_ _I ain't scared of nothin'," he gave her a heart-warming grin. Scarlett gave him a half-smile. "How about a good luck hug, though, before we go in? Just in case," he suggested. She nodded and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her. They stood there for a few seconds just holding each other. Scarlett missed that warm feeling she would get when she used to hug him. And she missed his smell. He always smelled like a mild cologne, even if he wasn't wearing any. She didn't want this moment to end. She belonged right there in his arms. Apparently, he didn't want the moment to end either because he hugged her even tighter, almost to the point where it was painful. His empty hand came around to cup her breast. What was he doing? Sure it was nice, but it was inappropriate. They had broken up at prom. He was the one that wanted them to go their separate ways; said they needed to "spread their wings" and experience new things._

 _Scarlett tried to pull away to end the hug, but he backed her up against the brick wall of the house. Justin went for her neck and groped her right buttock, the gun still in his right hand._

 _"_ _I've missed you so much," he purred into her neck, his hot breath bringing goosebumps to her skin._

 _"_ _No, Justin. Stop," Scarlett calmly told him. He held her tighter. "Justin, seriously. Stop. You're the one who broke up with me." He went in for a kiss and pressed his lips against hers. She tore away. "Justin, seriously, NO!"_

 _But when she saw his face, it wasn't Justin's. The clean-shaven, youthful face and blue eyes were gone and replaced by a worn face with a dark beard and lustful brown eyes: the face of Vladimir. Her heart sank into her stomach like hot candle wax. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. How could he disguise himself so much and know how to upset her in just the most heart-breaking way?_

 _"_ _No, no," Scarlett breathed. "You…how…no…"_

 _"_ _Surprised?" he smirked. He went to embrace her again, but Scarlett shoved him back, amazed by her own ability to do so._

 _"_ _You can't be here! You're dead! I SAW IT!" she yelled at him. He laughed at her._

 _"_ _I am everywhere. You can't hide. Now, come with me," he extended his hand towards her._

 _She shook her head. She wasn't going anywhere with him. She was finally free. And he was dead. He couldn't force her to do anything anymore._

 _Scarlett went to run past him, but he stuck his arm out to stop her. He seized her upper arm and Scarlett resisted._

 _"_ _NO! NO! LET GO!" Scarlett shoved her hand into his face and probed her fingers into his eyes, making him snarl and loosen his grip. She opened the door to her house and got inside, but not before Vladimir snatched her wrist and started pulling her back. God, why couldn't he just leave her alone?!_

 _"_ _No! Stop it! Let go!" She jerked her wrist towards her body to extend Vladimir's arm and grasped the door handle to slam the door shut—right on his hand. There was a crunching sound and Vladimir yelled in pain, releasing her instantly. Scarlett fell to the floor from the sudden loss of his pull, but quickly got to her feet and fled._

 _'_ _Where to hide? Where to hide?' she kept asking in her mind. The sound of the door bursting open told her that Vladimir was coming. He was coming for her. And he was going to kill her. No one could help her. None of her family was home, but would they have even helped? Wouldn't they just morph into Vladimir too? It seemed like it was only the two of them that existed in the world. There were no other people. He was haunting her; even though he was dead, he could still haunt her in her dreams. She could never escape him; he was making sure of that even from the grave._

 _Scarlett ran into the first room on her left. It was her sister, Heidi's, room. It was painted lavender and had a white desk and dresser. There was a poster of horses above the twin-size bed that sported a dark purple comforter. Scarlett dropped onto the floor and slid under the bed, a dust bunny finding its way into her mouth in the process. She recoiled and wanted to spit it out, but she heard footsteps storming down the hallway._

 _"_ _Where are you, you little bitch?!" she heard Vladimir bellow. There was a bang on the other side of the wall and an indentation appeared in a convex pattern. "When I find you, you're dead!" he threatened._

 _Scarlett covered her eyes with her hands, fighting back the urge to start bawling. He was going to find her; she just knew it. Her hiding place sucked. But if he went down the hall into another room at the back of the house, she might could sneak out and run; just run anywhere her legs could take her; down the street, across town, across the state, or even across the country. She didn't want to die._

 _Heavy treading purposefully entered her sister's room and Scarlett opened her eyes. She could see large, dirty boots stop just in front of the bed. They looked so out of place in a little girl's room. He didn't belong here; not in a suburban home with nice furniture and neat housekeeping. Scarlett bit her knuckles, watching the unmoving boots. He was right there—right THERE. She bit down even harder when his weight shifted from one leg to the other, like he knew she was under that bed and was waiting for her to just give up and come out. Scarlett could hear his every inhale and exhale. Her own breathing became amplified. Her hands were trembling. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. Then, there was a high pitched sound. He was whistling. He made the notes long and menacing, alternating between high and low pitches. His feet turned to the side and he began to walk toward the closet._

 _"_ _You're here…Come out…" he muttered quietly, grabbing the door handle to the closet. Scarlett could see the hand that she smashed in the door. It was bruised and bloody. He threw open the closet door so fiercely that the door swung back on its hinges and hit the wall with a bang. When he saw no life form cowering in fear amongst the youthful clothes and shoes, he let out a frustrated groan. Scarlett grabbed her head and put her face to the floor. "Don't play this game with me, little girl. We both know who's going to win," he sneered before exiting the room._

 _Scarlett saw him go down the hallway. Now was her chance. She slid out from under the bed, dust covering her entire front. Making sure to take quiet steps, her feet padded across the wooden floor and she prayed that the floorboards wouldn't give away her presence._

 _She got four steps from the doorway of her sister's room and then heard the heavy, rhythmic thumping of feet walking again. No…he couldn't be coming back already. He was toying with her to make her come out of her hiding spot. Scarlett scrambled behind the bedroom door and pulled it against her, smashing her nose in the process. She held her breath as he came closer._

 _"_ _Come on out, sweetheart," he taunted, his voice surprisingly sweet. She's never heard it quite that pleasant before. "I'm not going to hurt you. I want you. I want you to be with me. No one's loved me like you have. Not for a long time. Please don't leave me all alone out here…I need you…"_

 _Scarlett peeked through the space between the door and the door frame as he came back through the corridor. His voice sounded so pitiful and his words genuine. Sure, he might have been lonely, but Scarlett knew better than to fall for that. It was another trap, just like when he had tricked Zoey into going into her room and now she was dead. He might have said that he wanted or loved her, but he had a skewed version of "love". Love was usually defined as wanting the best for another person, no matter the cost. Vladimir's version of "love" was someone being devoted to him and pleasuring him whenever he demanded it. He didn't care about the other person's feelings or wishes. He was a self-centered sociopath, who belonged in a mental institution, incarcerated with chains in a dark cell with no access to society whatsoever._

 _He was returning back to the kitchen where the back door was. Scarlett wondered what she should do. Should she just stay here? No, he would find her eventually. She should try to move. She could escape through the same window in the bathroom like she had done earlier. But she would have to be quick; there would be no time for hesitation._

 _Scarlett side-stepped around the door and peered around the door frame towards the kitchen. She couldn't see him; maybe he had gone out the door and was searching the backyard. She tip-toed in the opposite direction and nearly jumped into the air when she heard him speak from the kitchen._

 _"_ _There's no need to hide, darling. No need to run from me…"_

 _Scarlett dared not look behind her. She didn't want to see his grisly face. But there were no footsteps behind her, so maybe he hadn't seen her yet. She resumed tip-toeing until she heard a click resonate down the hallway._

 _'_ _Fuck…'_

 _"_ _Found you," he stated, his voice echoing down the hall as well._

 _Scarlett halted and slowly turned around. There he was: big, menacing, triumphant. Scarlett ordered her feet to run, but couldn't feel her legs. Vladimir began to walk closer to her ever so slowly with that pistol aimed right at her. The closer he came, the more she trembled in fear. She felt like a scared rabbit with its ears continuously folding back in front of a looming fox. He finally stopped in front of her and put the end of the gun's barrel on her forehead. Scarlett was shaking like a leaf. There was no getting out of this. He had her directly in his sights._

 _"_ _Please don't," she whimpered, feeling the cold metal of the gun against her head. "Please…"_

 _"_ _There is no escape this time. I'll make sure of it," he told her, his gleaming, sinister eyes penetrating her petrified ones._

 _Scarlett trembled as she whispered, "B-but…you're dead…"_

 _Vladimir gripped the gun tighter and pulled his lips back into a chilling smile._

 _"_ _So are you."_

 _Scarlett's eyes widened and her ears became filled with the sound of a thunderous gunshot. She didn't even have time to scream as she felt immense pain and fell over._

* * *

Scarlett's body jolted so intensely that it woke her from the dream world, eyes shooting open as quick as lightning. She was drenched in a cold sweat.

"Dammit, she keeps sliding off my shoulder," Scarlett heard a masculine voice complain and then her body was resituated over a bulky surface. Her first instinct was to moan at the uncomfortableness of her position, but then the smell of sewage entered her nose, completely bringing her back into focus as to what her situation was. She was being carried over someone's shoulder.

"I ever tell you about the time I survived a bear attack?" another voice asked. Who the hell were these guys? Scavengers too?

"Yeah, right…" the first dismissed.

"No, it's true. I was with my buddies on this hunting trip in Alaska. We had spotted this huge elk and I looked through my scope and it was lookin' back at me when, suddenly, it made a bee-line for the woods. We looked at each other thinking 'what the fuck,' but then we heard a roar from behind us. And sure enough, there was a huge motherfuckin' grizzly bear standin' up on its hind legs! Luckily, I shot it right between the eyes before it got to rip into us," he made a finger gun for emphasis.

"Na-uh! You're lying!"

"Am not!"

"Are too! And that's not even a bear attack. That's a bear encounter."

"Well, whatever. Believe what you want, but it happened."

Scarlett's arm hurt as it swung below her. It was a sharp, pulsating ache. She remembered that damned arrow. She couldn't see the full extent of the wound, but she knew it probably looked like a bloody massacre now because she had removed the projectile herself. And good Lord, her head hurt as she tried to survey her surroundings. She winced at the pain coupled with the sluggishness. If she didn't know any better, she would've swore that she actually did get shot in the head.

The place that she seemed to be passing through looked like some kind of ghetto or shanty town. The ground was mud and there appeared to be alleyways made up of the same type of small shacks that she once resided in for her first couple of days here. Only these buildings were reinforced with sheets of metal. Some of the structures had more than one level to them and there were even crudely constructed walkways that were connected together and extended from the entrances of the shelters to prevent people from trudging through the muck. Overall, this area felt like a small, make-shift community. She turned her gaze to the side and quickly shut her eyes when she sensed another man walk past her. She opened one eye and observed three more sitting on crates, smoking and laughing with each other. One of them glanced in her direction and Scarlett immediately closed her eye. She was grateful that no outburst immediately followed.

She needed to get out of here. But with all these scavengers around, it would be hard to make an escape. They would shoot her before she could run five yards. Perhaps she could pick off the two that were escorting her when they got to a more remote area.

Not knowing if she still possessed her weapons, Scarlett snatched a shard of glass from a broken portable lantern that was resting on a pile of boxes. Her thumb kept it in place against her palm, invisible to anyone who looked at her.

"Whatcha got there?" an anonymous voice asked from behind her after several minutes. Scarlett was sure it had a Spanish accent. She examined her current location while they were stopped. It was a beautiful scenic spot beyond the red railings of an enormous, wooden bridge, showcasing the mountains. It even had the decorative Japanese archways to complete the picture.

"An outsider from the lower forest," the first man answered.

"She have anything on her?"

"A rifle," she heard the scavenger say and Scarlett mentally cursed at the thought of losing her father's gun.

"Anything else?"

Footsteps approached her body as the man walked around to her and she closed her eyes once more and went as limp as she could. She felt the blood thumping in her head as hands dove into and rummaged through her coat pockets.

"Pistol…food…water…ammo…lighter…gauze…tape…" he murmured as everything except for the handgun fell to the ground in the order that it was mentioned. He turned to the person that was carrying her. "This looks like all our stuff. I was right. Someone _had_ robbed us."

The guard intervened. "Actually, we'll take all of that," he told the two hunters in a smooth voice. Scarlett could just sense the menacing smile on his face.

"…But…"

"She's on our turf now. If you wanted your stuff, you should've taken it sooner. Check her pants."

The first man pulled up the bottom of her jacket to reveal another weapon at her hip.

"A knife," he took it from her and patted down the rest of her body rather quickly, for which Scarlett was grateful. She got the sense that the guard was making him uncomfortable.

"We'll take the weapons and ammunition too," the sentinel nodded to the ground in front of him and the lowly scavenger begrudgingly gathered her rifle, pistol, box of cartridges, loose bullets, and the knife—her most faithful companions—and laid them at the feet of the guard with a defeated sigh.

"Your contribution is greatly appreciated, gentlemen," the sentry ridiculed the two men with a hint of a chuckle. "Go on in. Mathias isn't back yet. He went check out that plane crash that happened this morning. You can just wait for him in the throne room."

 _Mathias?! They're taking me to him?! Oh, God! And a plane?! What about it? Was it coming for me? Was someone trying to save me?!_

The amount of questions began to pile up in her mind as the three of them entered a huge building. If it had a "throne room", it had to have been a castle or a palace, right? Whatever it was, it was pretty large because they kept turning corner after corner. Scarlett tried to remember every turn they had taken so that she could find her way out of here later, but she had lost track after about the fourth one. The halls were adorned with numerous statues of women, which were painted gold. There were a few other sculptures that looked like the same ones that she had seen in the forest last night, the ones of people (or creatures) with those ugly baby faces. Pottery and other relics served to further decorate the halls, all reminiscent of Japanese culture. Everything seemed like it was really ornate at some point, the detailing of the carvings and paintings, but now, all of it was degrading due to years of dust and humidity.

The first man spoke up, "What do you think Mathias will do with this one?"

"I don't know. Maybe he'll put her with the one he found last night. Then, we can have two girls for the ritual."

"That'll be…what? Two rituals in five days? That's the most action we've had in months. Maybe one of 'em will actually be the One this time."

"That's what you say every time," the second person sighed at his optimism. "Don't get your hopes too high. You don't want them to come crashing d— AHH! FUCK!" The thug holding Scarlett crashed into the floor and clutched his leg, sending her flying into the hard, wooden surface as well.

"What's wrong?!" the other questioned in alarm. The big man had a pool of blood forming under his leg. He grimaced as he wrapped his beefy hands around the back of his thigh to stop the bleeding.

"The lil' bitch slashed my leg!"

"With _what_?!"

Both of them lifted their heads to stare at Scarlett, whom shakily dropped a bloody shard of glass. It made a hollow cracking sound as it hit the floor and she backed away a couple of steps before making a break for it.

"Hey! Come back here!" the able-bodied man ran after her.

Scarlett ran down the hallway, the ancient straw mats crunching as she trampled over them. She took a left, a right, another left, and a right. It frightened her that she had no clue where she was going, but she needed to get away. This place had a lot of rooms, which would make it easy for anyone to hide.

The man kept up with her, almost snagging the hood of her jacket at one point, but she turned the corner too quickly, making him stumble. He snarled in frustration, using a table to pick himself back upright. He zoomed down the hall, yanking his pistol out of its holster, but then abruptly skidded to a halt so as to not crash into one of the lieutenants that was coming around an adjacent corner.

"What're you in a hurry for?" the official asked.

The lowly hunter put his hands on his knees, attempting to recuperate as he tried to explain his reckless behavior. "Outsider…caught…got loose…around here…somewhere," he sputtered between breaths and drew circles with his index finger to accentuate their current location.

"Humph, alright," his overseer seized him by the arm to pull him back up. "Which way?"

* * *

Scarlett finally came upon a spacious room with many maroon walls and pillars along with a giant, golden statue of a sitting woman. The Sun Queen? Was this the throne room? A severe pain shot through her side when she breathed. Her arm was killing her. She clutched it and looked behind her to see no one. At least she had a moment's peace. She bent over and put her hands on her knees to catch her breath, but her lungs felt empty, no matter how many breaths she took. Black stars began to dance in her eyes. The cold sweat returned to envelope her with its chilly embrace.

 _Oh no. Not here. Not now…_

She almost collapsed to the floor as her blood pressure began to plummet. She hurriedly took off her jacket and whipped her head around the room. She needed to get to a hiding spot fast. She staggered behind a pillar closest to the giant statue. She didn't want to pass out again, but she hadn't eaten anything substantial in days and she felt like she had been sprinting like an Olympic runner all of the time now. Her body felt hot and she was pretty sure she was running a fever. The only thing that was helping in the slightest was the fact that her clothes were still damp from the rain last night. It cooled her off a little to give her some relief. She drew her legs up to her chest and put her head between her knees, trying her best to just breathe. Everything would be alright, she kept telling herself. That is, until she heard the stampede of footsteps charge into the room. She whimpered and covered her mouth to silence her panting. The colorful, little dots swayed in her vision. She felt beads of sweat roll down her chest. She was sure she was going to die of stress.

"What are we on the lookout for?" a deep voice wondered. She never heard this one before.

"Woman, dark hair, this tall, wearing a camo jacket."

"You mean this?" There was a moment of silence and Scarlett realized when she had discarded her oversized coat, she had left it out in the open. Shit!

"You can't hide forever, girl," one of the men said, his voice coming closer and closer. "We'll find you."

Scarlett closed her eyes and exhaled. She clenched her sweaty fists, digging her nails into her palms. It was her dream all over again: the deadly game of cat and mouse. And last time, she didn't win.

 _I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die._

 _No, you're not! You're gonna get through this! C'mon, Scarlett, toughen up!_

Just as the blinking dots began to fade to where she could see clearly, she heard footfalls practically on top of her.

"You can't hide, darling," a deep, Russian-accented voice had spotted Scarlett.

She shrieked in surprise and threw herself backwards across the floor. This was a taller, older man. He had graying blond hair and was dressed in only pants and a black trench coat. Tattoos covered his chest as well. There was something about him that terrified the living crap out of her. Another surge of adrenaline coursed through Scarlett as he went for her, giving her muscles enough strength to back even further away.

"Get over here!" he snatched her wrist, despite Scarlett's writhing.

She couldn't be held captive again and doomed to repeat _that_ torture. And the way he called her "darling"…it was too much. She knew why he frightened her so much: he was like Vladimir; the tattoos, the leather, the taunting voice. He would take her and torment her without giving a second thought about it. He would haunt her in her dreams, turning them into nightmares. She couldn't be with another person like that. Scarlett wrenched the man's hand to her mouth and sunk her canine teeth into his fingers as hard as she could.

"Ow! Fucking—!" He yanked his hand back and quickly inspected the damage. Seeing teeth marks imprinted in his skin, he scowled and went to grab at Scarlett again, but she pushed herself away from his reach and got up to run again. She slipped by the man from the forest before he had the chance to bring her down.

This place wasn't safe. Nowhere was safe. It made her wonder if she had really woken up from that nightmare. She could hear the two scavengers running after her like a herd of cattle as she kept turning corners, trying to lose her pursuers.

"You can't run forever!" one of them shouted.

It made Scarlett want to prove them wrong. She sprinted down the corridor and she could feel her chest begin to hurt. The harder she breathed, the more it felt like it was going to rip open. And her legs were screaming at her to stop. She was so sore and was pushing herself to her extreme limits. All of a sudden, she seemed to have left the palace altogether and ran into a tunnel. The passageway was made of stone and the temperature had dropped. She couldn't keep going. She was going to collapse in exhaustion.

A crevice, however, had that job already taken care of. She tripped on a fissure in the ground and fell onto her front, skidding forward and scraping her chin against rock. Her legs were relieved, but her mind was uncontrollable. This was it. She was going to die here.

She was hardly able to raise her head, but she witnessed another human figure walking towards her. Her breathing halted completely as the person took notice of her on the ground.

"YOU?!" the man shouted. He came into full light and Scarlett froze like a deer in the headlights. Her blood ran cold. She recognized this scavenger and he was not thrilled to see her. "You killed Vladimir!"

Scarlett felt like her breathed had been ripped out of her throat at that accusation. She hadn't killed Vladimir. Why was he accusing her of that? This was not the time to stop and ask why, however. The man was coming closer like a charging bull and was going to hurt her, more than likely kill her. She went to get up and head in the other direction, but she was stopped by a force from behind. She turned her head around to see the man with the tattooed chest, the one whom had called her "darling".

"Where do you think you're going?" He grabbed her arm and flung her against the wall, cornering her. She cowered for what was to come. His sheer size frightened the living daylights out of her. The hunter, who had kidnapped her from the forest, also appeared at his side, panting heavily.

"I-I…please…" she whispered shakily, pulling her legs up into her chest to curl into a ball. "Please, don't hurt me..."

"Why'd you run? We weren't going to harm you," the tattooed man said. Scarlett knew that was a big, fat lie. The way he grabbed her was nowhere near gentle. This was exactly like her first night on the island all over again. She was scared, alone, weak, and cornered. And no one was going to help her. She had two options: plead for mercy and do whatever they wanted like a victim or be as stubborn as a mule and continue to run and resist them with the possibility of death. Well…both outcomes could result in her life being taken. But she'd rather hang on to life for as long as possible, holding on to the small shred of hope that she would return home. She sat there in silence in front of them, quaking with fear.

"We need to bring her to Mathias. He's going to want to see her," the man from the forest stated to the guy wearing the trench coat while he kept his eyes on the girl.

The person from the cave, whom she recognized as none other than Dmitri, approached them and joined the huddle that kept her pinned to the wall. He was fuming. He brutally shoved her with his boot, making her fall onto her side and smashing her injured arm against the hard floor.

"You dare show your face around here, filth?!" He kicked her between her legs and Scarlett flinched and yelped. Before he could deliver another harsh blow, the tattooed man came to her rescue.

"Whoa, brother, hold up," he pushed back the bearded Russian. "What's gotten into you?"

"Yeah, Mathias wouldn't like it if you gave her a black eye," the lowly scavenger joined in. Dmitri rounded on him.

"LEAVE!" he roared, pointing his finger down the hallway. The peon in front of him began to anxiously retreat.

"Okay, okay. Whatever you say," he shook his hands from side to side. "I'm outta here," he ended and made a beeline to depart. Dmitri turned back to the remaining man, still livid.

"She…She killed Vladimir," he pointed a condemning finger at the girl, whom cringed.

"What? This little thing?! Yeah, right!" the tattooed man broke into a laugh and turned his head towards her. She looked so pathetic and weak, literally shaking in her boots.

"Yes, that 'little _thing_ '!" Dmitri mocked. "She's capable of more than you know."

"And what do you _know_ , brother? Huh? How do you know so much about this one girl? Who is she?"

Dmitri paused. In order to talk about her, he would have to explain Vladimir's actions. There was no talking about her without him and vice versa. And then Dmitri would have to admit that he, along with Vladimir, had kept her a secret from everyone, including the man standing before him, Nikolai, his own brother in arms. How betrayed would the man feel about his comrades keeping a secret as intimate as this from him? The gravity of his mistake about not going to Mathias with these matters had finally sunken in and Dmitri wanted to smack his forehead in frustration. He should have ratted Vladimir out when he had the chance. If he would have just done what was right, despite risking his relationship with Vladimir, the girl could have been their ticket home. And Vladimir would have certainly forgiven him for the betrayal if the ritual was a success. All of this would have been behind them and they could have been laughing on the deck of a ship going back to Russia right now. Or even America. They had talked about starting over. But no. All Dmitri had wanted to do was keep the peace and now his ass was on the line, both with Mathias and Nikolai.

"Well, _brother_?" Nikolai crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. "What do you have to say? You certainly know something that I don't."

Dmitri pursed his lips and struggled to find words. How should he explain this? He closed his eyes and bowed his head with a deep exhale, preparing for his companion's reaction. He opened his mouth to start his explanation, but was interrupted by a quiet voice.

"I…I didn't kill him…"

The men turned their heads towards the quivering girl. Dmitri narrowed his eyes ominously.

"What did you just say?" he asked in a dangerously low voice, like he was a volcano about to erupt. The girl shook her head back and forth, physically reiterating her statement.

"I didn't kill him," she breathed, cradling her arm.

"Why, you are just—"

"I didn't kill him," she repeated again, this time her voice stronger. "I'm telling the truth. Why don't you believe me?!"

Dmitri suddenly wrapped his hand around her throat, his temper steadily rising at a rapid rate. Scarlett gasped at his quickness.

"Because you're a slippery, little snake. You don't know how much I would just love to sink this fucking machete through your gut right now," he retrieved said weapon from the sheath strapped to his back and let it hover above her torso in a threatening manner, "and watch you struggle like a baited worm. But since you were running so fast in that direction," he pointed towards the cave, "maybe you would rather the pit. The prisoners there would take mighty fine care of you. They've been stuffing themselves for the past few days, but I think they can manage a little dessert. They'd love to get a taste of soft, delicate meat."

Scarlett's stomach tightened into a hard knot. The pits sounded like Hell. Who were these prisoners? People who had done bad things in their society? Or maybe they were people left over from shipwrecks? Was that where they took the men of her crew, the people from the _Commendation_? She faintly remembered Vladimir saying something about a "pit". And at the mentioning of "fresh meat", did he mean to say that said prisoners turned into cannibals? Oh, God! Were the people that she formerly worked with now consuming actual human flesh? What the fuck was wrong with the people on this island?!

"You really think she even knew who Vladimir was?" the other man questioned.

"Oh, she knew," Dmitri seethed. "She knew him quite well…"

And you want to kill her without bringing her to Mathias first? That's a bit risky, don't you think?"

Dmitri snatched Scarlett's wrist and jerked her upwards to tow her back in the direction of the caverns. She refused to yield, attempting to use her body weight to keep herself planted to the floor. Dmitri heaved her up by her underarms and began to drag her with him. Scarlett strove to run from him and lunged forward, but his grip was stronger. She began to fling herself from side to side like a maniac, trying to sever his hold on her.

"Trust me, this will save us a lot of headache…" he growled while trying to overcome Scarlett's resistance.

No, she couldn't be torn apart; not by demented, feral men who were once her colleagues! She didn't want her limbs to be ripped from her torso and her bones chewed on like dog treats. She didn't want to die! Tears stung her eyes. She wanted to plead for her life, to beg for mercy. There had to be some sort of humanity left in these men's hearts. She had gone through so much and survived this long. They couldn't just throw her away like trash. She dropped to her knees and grasped the hem of Dmitri's shirt in desperation.

"No. No, please! You can't do this! I didn't kill Vladimir! You have to believe me, Dmitri, please! I'm begging you! For the love of God, _I'm begging you_!" She violently shouted, squeezing the fabric of his ragged cotton shirt so tightly that she could feel the individual threads running across her fingertips. " _Please, please, please!_ " she began heaving spasmodic breaths. He couldn't do this to her. He couldn't kill her!

Dmitri struck the back of her hand and pushed her off of him like she was some filthy beggar on the streets.

"Get off of me!" he spat. "Don't try to bargain with me like you're an innocent, little girl. I know what you did!" He lowered his voice and got close to her face, so that only she could hear what he was about to say. "Vladimir may have been smitten with you, but whatever you did to charm him won't work on me. And around here, it's an "eye for an eye"! You killed Vladimir, so now I kill you!" He grasped her arm and resumed dragging her across the floor, despite her wriggling.

"NO! Please DON'T!" Scarlett screamed. There had to be some way to negotiate. This couldn't be the end. She pulled against Dmitri, reaching for the trim of the older Russian's trench coat.

Nikolai watched the young woman trying to latch onto him. He didn't pull away nor did he attempt to save her. Normally, he didn't feel sympathy for survivors. He wasn't allowed to; not if he wanted to keep his own ass alive. If newcomers wanted to protest and fight back, that was their choice and they would have to pay the consequences. But there was something strange about this girl. Why was Dmitri trying to get rid of her so quickly? If what he was saying about her was true and that she did kill Vladimir, then she would indeed suffer. But not before being brought to Mathias first. Anyone with common sense knew better than to keep something important from the priest, especially when it came to women.

"Stop!" Nikolai called out, walking around Dmitri. "You can't do this, brother. We need to discuss it first." He blocked the pathway to the caves with his body, staring his comrade down.

"There's nothing to talk about!" Dmitri yelled back at his face and pushed past him, continuing to cart the young woman away. Nikolai seized the collar of Dmitri's shirt and wrenched him backwards.

"Apparently there is!" Nikolai bellowed in return. The severity of his tone made the girl wince. "You're about to kill a woman without even talking to Mathias first! What do you think he's going to say about that?!"

Dmitri answered without even looking back. "He's not going to find out if you keep your damn mouth shut!"

Nikolai opened his mouth again to shout something in reply, but an anonymous masculine voice projected into the hallway before he could get the words out.

"Oh, yes he is! What's going on here?"

* * *

 **A/N:** **Thank you to all of you who are still reading! Hopefully, I'm still keeping up with the believability factor (feeling self-conscious about it at the moment). I also want to thank ARCCaptainFordo and DioRezi for the reviews last time!** **I've been posting this story on Archive of Our Own as well and posting about 2 chapters per week on there to catch up with what I have here on FFN. I've also been proofreading the chapters before I post them there and I have found they were riddled with typos and omissions of words. Very embarrassing for me! I've gone back and fixed the first 6 chapters (hopefully catching all of the mistakes) on here as well and will continue to correct them weekly. Oh, and my username is RockaRolla09 on AO3. Thanks for reading. Til next time!**


	17. Day 6: Noon

All three of them turned around to see a man dressed in a black robe with a dark hood. Splashes of dried, white paint covered his arms and chest. He wore a large necklace that he probably fashioned himself made from small trinkets and pieces of salvage threaded through some string. He was also barefoot and carried a makeshift staff that sported a circular saw blade near the top of it. In all, he looked like a shaman of an ancient warrior tribe found in a jungle.

"Father Mathias, we were just…" Nikolai trailed off, unsure of where to go with the sentence.

Scarlett's eyes doubled in size and her eyebrows shot up at the intimidating figure in front of them.

 ** _This_** _is Mathias?!_

She didn't expect him to be so…aged, maybe in his late fifties or early sixties. Or maybe he wasn't even that old yet and life on this island has just been taking its toll on him. She inwardly cringed at the anatomy of his face: it was skeletal with sunken-in cheeks. Age lines were permanently etched near the corners of his eyes, his forehead, and around his mouth. From what Scarlett could see beneath the hood, he had a small patch of blond hair on his head that was slicked back. His eyebrows were so light that she had to do a double-take to make sure he even had any. What made Scarlett most uncomfortable, though, were his eyes. His irises were so pale a blue that they were almost clear, like ice.

"I'll ask again: what _is_ going on here? Where did she come from?" The two Russians stared at each other at a complete loss for words. "Alright, since no one wants to answer, I'll try a different question: why do you think it's acceptable to bring a woman to the caves without consulting me first?"

"That's what I was trying to get him to do, Father Mat—" Mathias held out his hand to stop Nikolai.

"I know you were. The question was mainly for Dmitri." The priest leaned on his staff, intently anticipating what kind of response his lieutenant would come up with.

Dmitri pursed his lips and folded them inward. He knew if he said that this girl killed Vladimir, it would open another can of worms. He would just have to be as vague as possible.

"She's dangerous. It's too risky to keep her around."

"What has she done?"

"She's…killed some of our men."

"Are you sure you're not thinking of the other woman nam—"

"No," Dmitri curtly cut him off with a shake of his head. "This one," he pointed at the girl beside him, "she's killed."

Mathias narrowed his eyes and paused long and hard before speaking again. "Why the pit?"

"What?" Dmitri shifted his weight between his legs uncomfortably.

"I'm asking you why you are bringing her to the pit to kill her. Why not just shoot her or slit her throat? It'd be quicker. Bringing her below and letting the prisoners attack her is more spiteful. Has she provoked you?"

Dmitri could spill the beans right here and now. He could tell Mathias everything and just pray that the priest would have mercy on him. But deep down, he knew that Mathias wouldn't let him walk away scot-free. If he kept answering his leader's questions, the subject of Vladimir was sure to come up. But he just couldn't help but continue to delay his inevitable doom.

"I'm just making sure the prisoners get fed. There's been a lull in the pit for a while now and I'd thought I'd stir things up a bit," Dmitri lied, hoping the answer was sufficient enough to appease Mathias so that they could move forward with what to do with the girl.

It wasn't.

" _You_ thought?" Mathias repeated threateningly. The fact that it was more of a whisper was even more unnerving. "You don't have the power to make that decision. _I_ get the say as to what this woman's purpose is. _I_ decide her fate."

Scarlett's lip curled in disgust at those statements. She desperately wanted to believe that nobody had any control over her, but everything about this man, from his appearance to the way he carried himself and how he spoke with such unwavering authority, made her realize that she was small and that she really didn't have any control over her situation. Ever since she arrived on this island, she seldom had control over any scenario. She was always being told what to do or hauled around like cargo. Yes, she could've voiced her opinion or rebelled at any point in the past several days, but it was more than likely that that would've instantly resulted in her death.

Mathias bent down to her level, using his staff as support. "What's your name?"

Scarlett couldn't face him. His eyes felt like they were staring straight through her and it petrified her to the core.

"Don't make me ask again. What is your name?" he repeated, irritation steadily creeping into his tone at having to repeat himself so many times in the last few minutes.

"Scarlett," she quickly hissed. Mathias reached for her left forearm and pulled it towards him, exposing her reeking underarm with slight hair stubble. Scarlett could feel her wound stretch. The priest's eyes traveled across the expansion of her chest, arms, and face, taking note of every red and dark purple splotch. She concentrated on the floorboards at his feet.

"Where have all of these wounds come from?" he wondered. Scarlett was silent, but glared as her gaze drifted to Dmitri behind her. Mathias followed her eyes and his too landed on the bearded Russian. "You did this to her?"

"No!" Dmitri instantly shot back. "She was already like this! Lying wretch!" he roughly pushed Scarlett's head down. Mathias raised his hand to stop him and stood back up. He motioned for his two lieutenants to back away from the petite girl. He began to walk around her slowly, circling her like a predator. She kept her eyes glued to the floor.

"Where are you from?"

Scarlett's mind was blank. She opened her mouth for a few seconds before gathering up the nerve to ask, "What do you—"

"Country. What country?"

"United States," she rapidly confessed.

"You seem fairly young. Are you in school?"

"A university," she shrugged.

"And might I inquire what brought you out this far east?"

All Scarlett could do was tell the truth. What harm could that bring her? "I was…on a research trip," she answered.

Mathias' eyes lit up at her last two words. "Researching what?" he probed, walking back in front of her to see her face.

"Sharks. Marine life."

The priest's face slightly fell. "I see…" He pursed his lips and looked off down the corridor, pensive. "Do you know a Samantha Nishimura?"

Scarlett's eyebrows furrowed. _'Samantha' who?_ She shook her head.

Mathias cocked his head to the side. "You weren't on a vessel named the _Endurance_?"

Same response. The priest narrowed his eyes and stared at her very hard. Something wasn't adding up.

"How long have you been here? Exaaactly?" he asked her, dragging out the last word.

"Well, we—"

"'We'? You were with others?" he interrupted before she could say anything else.

"I used to be…" Scarlett answered, her voice fading as she thought of her companions, recalling the events of her first night here; how they were taken away, how they died. "But they were brought to you by your guys. Where are they?" she demanded. Her gut tightened at the prospect of finally discovering the fates of her fellow crew mates. Mathias remained silent as he gazed at her, so she pressed further. "There were, like, eight people maybe. Three of them were girls. One of them was shot before she was sent to you. Zoey, Chrissy, Amy? Ring any bells? Zoey had blonde hair and—"

"I don't know who you're talking about," Mathias answered simply. His relaxed tone didn't sit well with Scarlett at all, though. She flared her nostrils and huffed in frustration.

"'Don't know'?! How could you not know?! We only shipwrecked here a few days ago! From a ship called the _Commendation_!"

Mathias raised his hand to slow her down. " _Commendation_? Then, where have _you_ been all this time?" he spit the question out in a way that made her feel like she was guilty for not going to him of her own accord.

"I…" Her words came to a grinding halt. She didn't want to say what happened to her. She didn't even like admitting it to herself. Somehow, it would have felt more real if she confessed it out loud, that it wasn't just all in her head or memories.

Dmitri stepped forward to break the tense silence. "If I may, Father Mathias, I don't think this girl is worth our time. She's murdered our men and will just wreck more havoc the longer we keep her around."

Scarlett whipped her head behind her to glare at Dmitri. "I'm not a fucking psychopath, y'know!" she yelled before turning back to Mathias. She had to explain herself before he got the wrong idea about her. She was innocent in all of this. "Look, I didn't want to kill anyone. The first time I did, it was an accident. They were going to hang the dude and I wanted to shoot him down, but I missed. I was trying to _save_ him, though. And the other guys last night…they were going to kill me. I know they were! I didn't want to shoot them, I didn't want to! Please don't let him send me to the pit," she pointed to Dmitri. She knew she was spiraling out of control, talking so fast that she didn't even recognize her own voice anymore. "Please! You don't know what I've been through to make it this far. I just wanna go hom—"

"'I don't know what you've been through'?! 'I don't know'?!" Mathias bellowed. His voice was harsh enough to make her retreat a couple of paces from him. "What's the worst you've been through? Shipwrecked, having to scavenge for a morsel to eat? Then, some of my men happen to come upon you and you were forced to take them out. You think that's difficult? I've been through it _all_ for longer than you could imagine! You haven't lived the life I have, done the things I've done, so don't try to sympathize with me! And let me tell you something else," he craned his neck toward her and lowered his voice back down to that menacing tone, "I've had to _earn_ my survival. I didn't come this far just by luck."

Scarlett's jaw dropped at the metaphorical slap in her face. How dare he talk to her like that! How dare he so carelessly dismiss all of her hardships! She had been to hell and back and it was certainly no walk in the park.

"You… _Fuck_ you! You don't know the hell I've been through, what _I've_ had to do!" Scarlett could feel herself becoming overexcited, her filter disappearing altogether for once. "If you had, you wouldn't dare say that! You'd be apologizing to me!"

Scarlett felt a fist strike her in the back and she doubled over in pain. Mathias eyed her like repulsive vermin. He turned back to his lieutenant.

"As you were, Dmitri. Get rid of her," he flicked his hand and Dmitri came up from behind her, grabbing her by the middle to drag her back towards the pit.

"NO! Get the fuck off me! You can't do this! Let GO!" As much as it pained her arm, she swiftly brought her elbow back behind her and nailed Dmitri in the eye. He grunted in pain and grabbed at his face, involuntarily releasing Scarlett. She landed on her hands and knees, her mind still in a frenzy and not yet ready to go down without having the last word with Mathias. "You think you're so fucking high and mighty; that you know everything and everyone. You don't know shit! So, let me enlighten you: some of your men don't like following the rules," she sneered as Nikolai grasped her upper arms and began to pull her back once more. Mathias kept his eyes trained on her. She knew she had his attention. Time to drop the bomb. "Wanna know who?! I'll tell you: VLADIMIR!" Scarlett spat out the name like a curse. She saw Mathias' eyes widen. "You wanna know where I've been this entire time?! With him! That's right! He kept me right under your nose this whole time and you didn't even know it!"

"Nikolai, drop her!" Mathias commanded while sauntering towards Scarlett. The tattooed man instantly released her and she fell back to the floor.

"Do you wanna know what he _did_ to me?!" Scarlett continued, this time looking Mathias right in his icy eyes. "He fucking _raped_ me! Every day! So, don't you dare patroni—"

Scarlett suddenly felt a sharp pain strike her on the cheek.

"Shut your fucking mouth! Don't you talk about him!" Dmitri scolded her and then turned to his leader in haste. "She's lying, Father Mathias. Vladimir wouldn't dare do that again. He knew better."

Mathias raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because this doesn't sound too far-fetched from what he's done in the past. He's disappointed me before. Who's to say he didn't do it again?"

Dmitri's jaw dropped. "You actually believe her?!"

"Are you questioning me?" Mathias fired back.

"No, I'm saying she's a liar! She's going to try to say anything to live, even blame one of us. She's trying to get you to doubt us, to separate us," Dmitri motioned his hands between him and Mathias for emphasis. "But I— _we've_ —been with you since the beginning. We have no reason to lie to you."

Mathias narrowed his eyes to slits. "Unless it was to save your own skins."

"I'm telling the truth!" Dmitri desperately attempted to reassure him. "She's planting these ideas in your head and they're _not_ true! I don't know how else to convince you!"

"Why are you so eager to defend Vladimir?"

"What?" Dmitri exhaled.

"Something's…unusual about all of this," Mathias shook his head thoughtfully, recapping the situation. "You first try to send this girl to the pit without bringing her to me because she's 'killed some of us'. She then cries 'rape' and you call her a liar. How do you know she's lying? She knew Vladimir's name, after all."

"She could've picked that up from anywhere," Dmitri dismissed.

"Perhaps, but what I meant was that you two rarely got along. You were always bickering and antagonizing one another. It's strange that you suddenly come to his defense now that he's dead. I'm just curious as to why the change of heart. It wasn't like he was the most faithful of servants."

Dmitri stopped and stared off to the side before sneering under his breath, "Then why was he in charge of anything to begin with?"

That was the wrong thing to say. Mathias swiftly pointed his staff forward, the saw blade at Dmitri's neck.

"What did you just say?" he growled menacingly.

Dmitri glared, averting his gaze as if Mathias were a threatening jungle cat ready to strike. "Nothing."

"You're treading on _very_ thin ice, Dmitri. And you know what? I think you know something. I think you know something about this girl. That's why you wanted to get rid of her so quickly. And I also think there's a deeper reason to defending Vladimir than just the honor of comradery. What is it?"

This was Scarlett's chance. She may not have understood all of the rules around here, but she definitely knew two of them. One: women were supposed to be brought to Mathias. And two: don't lie to the man. Dmitri had broken both of those laws. It was time for payback.

She raised her right arm and pointed a finger at the Russian. "He…he knew everything," Scarlett breathed. "He saw me and Vladimir the morning after I got here."

"You little BITCH!" Dmitri struck her so hard this time that Scarlett collapsed to the floor. She went to cradle her cheek, but the mere touch of her fingertips set her nerve endings on fire, making her yelp. It felt like he had broken her face.

"Dmitri!" Mathias shouted to stop his lieutenant from causing her any more harm. "Is it true? You knew about all of this?!"

"No! That's bullshit! She's just making up stories again!"

"Is she, though? Because it all seems to paint a pretty clear picture. You found out about them, you don't tell me for whatever reason," he laid his palm on his chest, "and now that I'm finally catching wind of it, you're scrambling to cover your tracks."

"This…I…" Dmitri exhaled and ran his hands through his lengthy hair, unable to formulate a response quick enough.

Scarlett spoke up again, verbally adding fuel to the flames. "He got into a fight with Vladimir the next day. That's why his lip's all busted up."

"Why, you—" he went at Scarlett again, but Mathias shoved his staff in front of him.

"That's why you're hurt?! You fought him?!"

"I did no such thing! She's lying!"

Scarlett couldn't stop herself. "He wanted to take me away from Vladimir. For himself or for this ritual thing, I don't know."

Mathias turned to Scarlett. "What do you know about the rituals?"

"Not much," she shrugged. "Just a random guy told me everybody is stuck here on this island because of the storms and that I could be the 'key' to get us all out of here. That's all I know. I asked Vladimir about it, but he never told me anything."

Mathias went back to Dmitri. "She sure seems to know a lot for being a _liar_ ," the priest took a step towards him and Dmitri took one back.

"She could have overheard anyone talking about the ritual. It's a common subject."

"Oh? How's this for being a liar?!" Scarlett piped up, so sick of everyone's dismissal at this point. "I slept where he slept—in a hut on a mattress that was covered in deer furs. He snored at night. He didn't like to talk about Russia…" She listed anything and everything she could remember about Vladimir, anything that was specific to him alone and no one else would know. "Oh, this was a big one: he had a lot of tattoos. An altar on his chest, a cross here," Scarlett slapped a hand on her abdomen before turning to Nikolai, seeing his exposed chest and the same markings. She pointed her finger at him and said, "Just like him. And he also had one of a mermaid on his left arm here," Scarlett gestured to the inside of her forearm. "And he would call me this word: ' _shlyu_ …something'. I don't remember what it was, but it wasn't English."

" _Shlyukha_?" Nikolai offered from the sidelines, his arms now crossed.

Scarlett nodded her head vigorously. "Yeah, that. It was that." When no one immediately retaliated against her, she broke the moment of silence. "Is that enough for you?" she sneered at Mathias. "Or am I still a _liar_?"

The priest tightened his lips, making more age lines appear around his mouth, and shot an accusatory glare at Dmitri. "Those are very specific details. I think it would be rather astonishing if she was making this up as she goes, wouldn't you?" he asked him.

Dmitri's mouth was ajar. He wasn't able to see a way around this. The girl had the facts. Everything that she had said about Vladimir was true and Mathias knew it. There was no swaying his leader's mind now. This was it. He was done for. He always knew he would die someday. He just didn't think it would have been today.

He closed his eyes in defeat and sighed. "Look, I tried to convince Vladimir to bring her to you. I really did. Multiple times. But he wouldn't budge. I didn't tell you because I wanted him to see his own mistake, that he was putting himself above everyone else. I was hoping he would come around eventually, but I guess I was wrong. And now he's dead because of it, because of me."

Mathias was silent for a few good seconds as he mentally reflected on Dmitri's confession. He leaned on his staff and stared off to the side, mulling over what to do next.

"Well," he began after a strenuous sigh, "Vladimir's lucky he's dead. Because if he wasn't, I would kill him myself."

Scarlett's eyebrows shot up at that. The people on this island hadn't been lying. Mathias was vicious.

"And you," he went back to Dmitri, "where in your mind did you think comradery outweighed duty?"

"I…" Dmitri's eyes rapidly darted back and forth in stifled alarm.

"Do I need to remind you why we are on this island? What our goal is? Do you want to stay here forever?"

"No, sir. Of course not."

"Then, why didn't you speak up?! You had multiple opportunities." He shook his head in disappointment and scoffed, "I must say, this really puts a damper on our relationship, Dmitri. It makes me question where your true loyalties lie. You lied to me. Every day for the past five days, you have lied straight to my face by withholding information. And I don't tolerate liars," he ended with a snarl. "Nikolai, hand me your gun."

Dmitri's eyes grew wide as he watched his brother obey. Nikolai also threw him an uneasy expression.

"You were always a faithful servant, Dmitri, even though I didn't notice it at first," Mathias admitted, running his hand down the length of the barrel in a caress. "You are strong, a good worker, and a competent leader. You hardly ever gave me trouble. So you can only imagine what's going through my mind right now. I cannot have followers keeping secrets from me, especially when the fate of all of us is at risk." Mathias aimed the gun at Dmitri, whom took a step back with his hands raised in defense.

Nikolai quickly jumped in to intervene. "Do you think this is really necessary, Father Mathias? Dmitri knows he screwed up. And unlike Vladimir, I bet he'll never do it again. Experience is the best teacher, as some say. It's unfortunate—at least for us two—that we lost Vlad, but we have the girl now and she's alive. What happens to her is still your decision. Isn't that what matters?"

Mathias slowly rotated his head towards the tattooed man, still keeping the firearm trained on Dmitri. "What are you saying, Nikolai? Are you trying to convince me to completely disregard your brother's dishonesty so that his life can be spared? Do you also believe that comradery comes before duty?"

"No, sir. But I think this _may_ be getting a bit out of hand. We don't want to do anything drast—"

Mathias instantly aimed the pistol at him now. Nikolai's eyes widened and his hands shot up just as Dmitri's did.

"You want to join him? Because you seem to care more about him than you do getting off of this island. Unless _you're_ lying to me, Nikolai, and you really do believe that friendship is more important than the oath you made to me. If that's the case, I can get rid of you as well. There are plenty more men that are more than eager to replace the two of you."

Scarlett's jaw would've hit the floor if her face hadn't been in so much pain. She was basically watching the unraveling of a leader and his followers. It didn't even cross her mind until now that someone as insignificant as her was capable of turning the tables on this tight-knit group. It was most definitely her intention to get back at Dmitri for beating her like a piñata, but it was a complete shock to her that Mathias desired to kill not just him, but Nikolai too. It was frightening the way the priest talked about executing them so easily. They were his own followers for Christ's sake! Sure, Dmitri and Nikolai were total brutes and probably have committed some God-awful crimes, but she didn't want to be the cause of their deaths. She didn't want any more bodies falling at her feet.

"Please…don't do this," she pleaded in a timid voice, not even sure if it was audible enough for anyone to hear. "Don't kill them. No one else needs to die."

Mathias directed the pistol onto her now, eyes wild like a madman's. Scarlett instantly withdrew a short distance backwards with a whimper.

"Be silent! You have no say in any of this!" he shouted at her. Upon seeing her back down in fear, he turned the weapon back onto Dmitri. "We've wasted enough time as it is. Liars have no place among the brotherhood, which means you have no place here. You've served me well over the years and I never thought it would have come to this. But it's your own fault, Dmitri. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Dmitri wanted to snatch that pistol right out of Mathias' grasp and turn it back on his leader. He did have someone to blame. He narrowed his eyes at the girl crumpled on the floor. This was all her fault. She was the one who had seduced Vladimir. She was the one who killed him. And she had balls big enough to rat him out and turn this whole situation against him. It was true that he had disobeyed the rules and felt responsible for Vladimir's death. If he had gone to Mathias right from the start, Vladimir would have still been alive. Sure, the man would've hated his guts for some time, but they would have reconciled eventually. And if he had turned in the girl and she was actually the one they had been looking for all of these years, they could've been sailing on a ship back home by now, smiling and laughing about everything they were going to do once they got back to civilization. But that would never happen now. Dmitri just wanted this girl to be gone. She was a constant reminder of his guilt. Every time he looked at her, he just pictured Vladimir's dead body; cold and still with a mangled face, never to smile or curse again. But if he told Mathias that she was the one that murdered his brother, any attempt to get rid of her would only be shot down because the priest would claim he was just acting out of revenge. But maybe there was another way.

Nikolai interjected again before Mathias could make the final move, "Father Mathias, wait. I'm sure another punishment could be more fulfilling. I could even administer it, if you want."

"No amount of flogging, isolation, or incarceration will compensate for what he's done. He took away my authority by taking matters into his own hands. By disobeying me, he's disobeyed the Sun Queen!"

"Let's just put her through the ritual!" Dmitri suddenly shouted.

"What?" Mathias questioned with a scowl.

"That's my proposal. The girl's caused all of this turmoil, it would be a waste to not even test her."

"Trying to override my authority again, are you?"

Dmitri sunk down onto a knee in front of him. "It's only a suggestion. I simply want to right what I have wronged. I know I made a mistake. And now, I want to fix it. I never meant you any disrespect whatsoever. Nor did I mean to turn my back on _her_. She's the reason that we will leave this place someday. I am grateful to have you as my leader and I have no doubt in your abilities. Please forgive me, Father Mathias," he bowed his head in penance.

"Himiko does not forgive," Mathias stated, his words bleeding with venom.

Scarlett didn't know how, but Dmitri somehow had enough nerve to maintain keeping his head bowed despite having a pistol pointed right at it.

"If I may be so bold as to say, sir, you are not her," he said in a calm, rational voice.

Scarlett's breath hitched in her chest at his statement. How did he think saying that would help?

"We've all messed up at some point," he continued. "I have, Nikolai has, Borys has. She may be perfect, but we aren't. We have to learn from our transgressions. I know what I did and I swear on my life that I will _never_ disobey you again. You have my word. I am under your absolute authority."

Scarlett swore that everyone in the room stopped breathing.

Mathias regarded the man in front of him, pleading for his life. Normally, when people begged to be spared, they were crying and hysterical, which only made him want to end their lives all the more; but not Dmitri. No, he was _asking_ for his life to be spared, like an honorable man. There were no tears running down his face, no babbling of words. And Mathias trusted Dmitri all of these years. It would be a shame to kill him. A real shame. He was already going to have to appoint a new lieutenant to replace Vladimir. Selecting a second new one was more than he wanted to handle at the moment. Mathias heaved out a sigh.

"Alright. You're forgiven, Dmitri. I better not be making a mistake, though."

Dmitri began to stand, ecstatic at the outcome. "Oh no, sir. You're not. I prom—"

Mathias slammed the top of his staff on the floor right next to the Russian, startling him. "Stay down. Nikolai, join him," he inclined his head towards the ground. Nikolai immediately went by his brother's side, got down on one knee, and bowed his head as well. "Both of you will renew your oaths," Mathias commanded. Dmitri and Nikolai briefly glanced at one another before focusing their full attention on their superior. Mathias began, "Are you here to serve me, and _only_ me, your savior and brother, of your own free will?"

 _Free will?_ Scarlett mentally scoffed. Did Mathias even know the definition of those two words? She knew for a fact that everyone here was only following him so that they wouldn't get killed.

Regardless, the two Russians responded with "yes".

"Do you understand that by serving me, you serve Himiko, the Sun Queen?"

Same response. "Yes."

"Do you dedicate your life to her? Do all of your work in her name, be it a miniscule or large task, even give your own life should she call for it?"

"Yes."

"Recite the creed."

Dmitri and Nikolai clasped their hands together in front of them as if in prayer. Scarlett's face contorted into a bemused look. Seeing these two men, strong and intimidating as they were, fold before an old man was…baffling, to say the least. Why did they even yield to this nut case anyway? She'd wager her life that either one of them could take him in a fight.

"With voices we praise you. With hearts we honor you. With fire we are bound to you." They spoke in unison, their bass and tenor voices mixing together as one chord in harmony. "You are the sun. You are the light. You are the storm that rages at night. We are your children. Wait for the day. Give us the dawn. Show us the way."

Mathias nodded. "Good. Now, get up." They obeyed. "I'm glad you and I both think alike, Dmitri," he placed a hand on his lieutenant's shoulder. "I'll accept your proposition. If Samantha is not the One, then she will be tested," Mathias pointed to Scarlett still sprawled on the floor.

Scarlett wasn't sure what to think and it showed in her eyes. _Tested? Tested how? On what?! What does that mean?!_ Before she could ask, Mathias addressed Nikolai.

"Get her cleaned up and let her rest," he instructed him. "She's been through a lot. And be sure to dress that wound on her arm. It needs stitches." He then turned to Dmitri, "And since you were the one that beat her, you will show our guest some hospitality and get the medical supplies she needs."

Dmitri scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Dmitri," Mathias pointed his staff in the Russian's face, "Do as I say. Now!"

Folding in his lips to prevent himself from blurting out anything that could get him into more trouble, he submitted and disappeared down the hallway.

Mathias' gaze finally landed on Scarlett. "You will be tended to. Try and relax yourself. This is a great honor for you."

Scarlett dared to raise her eyes. "What's gonna happen to me?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't sound too squeaky. She felt a pair of hands grab her upper arms and hoist her up. Mathias took note of how shaky her legs were upon standing.

"Himiko will tell us all we need to know," he simply answered before she was guided away from him.

* * *

Scarlett didn't fight back as Nikolai steered her down the corridor. She was too exhausted. Thankfully, the man wasn't too rough with her. He was acting more like a doctor guiding a hospital patient recently woken up from anesthesia. They went into a vacant room that only contained a stool to sit on. Nikolai sat her on it.

"Stay here. I'll be back in a bit," he muttered and left.

Scarlett remained there for a moment, wondering if she should make a break for it. He wouldn't expect her to run. It would totally catch him off guard. But she was so tired. Mathias had said that she would be granted rest and while that sounded like the greatest thing in the world right now, she knew that this ritual she was going to be put through wasn't. She didn't know what all she would have to do, but she didn't want to find out. What if it was like an exorcism or consisted of them drinking her blood while they lit candles, spoke in chants, and danced around her naked body? Okay, that seemed a bit extreme, but she wouldn't put it past them. Nevertheless, she presumed that she was probably going to end up dead by the end of it. Maybe that's what happened to her crewmates, her friends…Zoey. Mathias had them all killed. That's why he pretended not to know who she was talking about. But he did. He had to have known. She stood up, feeling her heart race and her temper rising. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. She had to get out.

Scarlett took a step towards the doorway and saw black dots appearing. Then, the ringing in her ears started. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the wall. Why did this keep happening?! It was becoming more of an annoyance than a concern at this point. She shouldn't let these sensations stop her, however. She had to keep moving. Using the wall for guidance like a blind person, she felt her way towards the exit. Creeping along, her hand eventually felt the wall disappear and she was grappling at the air. She was near the exit! The stars in her eyes became larger and the strength in her legs waned. She was about to collapse when a powerful force unexpectedly knocked her to the floor first.

"Goddammit! Where the hell do you think you're going?!" the familiar voice of Nikolai exclaimed. Scarlett didn't answer as he pushed past her. "Don't try to run. You wouldn't make it far anyway," he began to set up a cot that he had retrieved.

Scarlett watched him as he worked, thankful that the colorful dots began dissipating from her vision. She saw dark stains on the makeshift bed. Some were red, like blood. It reminded her of seeing old footage of World War II documentaries when wounded soldiers were all jammed together in a hospital tent, moaning and screaming, waiting for a physician to show up to tend to their injuries. And sometimes they would pass out or even die before the doctor could get to them. Then, she wondered how much medical experience Nikolai even had. Did he serve as a medic before the island? Or did he just slap a bandage on a wound and say "you're good to go"? Scarlett had a feeling it was the latter. He was going to butcher her arm.

Once Nikolai had the cot ready, he hit the center of it. "Sit."

Scarlett slowly made her way over and sat down, hunched over and anxious. Nikolai dragged the stool in front of the cot and sat on it. He leaned forward and folded his hands together casually in his lap.

"So, this is how everything's going to go: I'm going to stitch you up, clean the rest of your wounds, and let you rest. This can go one of two ways: the easy way…" he put his left hand out towards her like he was offering a gift, "…or the hard way," he stuck out his right hand. "Personally, I'd just want to make it easy so that we can get this over with. If you struggle, it'll be harder on the both of us. But it's your choice. You'll get stitched up either way." He pulled back and grabbed a flask from the inside of his trench coat. He unscrewed the top of it, put the rim to his lips, and drank whatever was in it. He exhaled and the smell of booze entered her nostrils, bringing back the memories of that drunken night with Vladimir. She felt queasy.

"Want some?" he offered her the container. Scarlett shook her head forcefully. There was no way she was drinking with the enemy again. "C'mon," he persisted, "I'm trying to be considerate here. You should take advantage of it. I don't do this every day."

"I don't want any," Scarlett firmly stated.

"You'll be sorry. It's going to hurt like a bitch."

"I don't fucking want any!" she snapped at him, surprising herself at how malicious the words came out.

He responded with a shrug, seemingly unaffected by her tone. "Alright, fine. You're loss."

"Should you even be drinking?" Scarlett grumbled. "You're about to put a needle in me."

Nikolai nearly laughed. "I've treated worse than you and they lived," he told her, patting her knee a few times. Scarlett burned a hole into his hand with her eyes and he removed it. "You don't have to worry about me. This is just to drown out your bitching and moaning when it happens." He raised the flask to drink again.

Scarlett could feel her nerves building. She had only gotten stitches two times in her life. The first time was on Christmas day when she was five years old. She had wanted her dad to open a new toy that was restrained in that pesky, plastic, secured packaging, but he was too busy talking to her grandparents and told her to wait. She decided that if he wasn't going to help her, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She left the room with the packaged toy and grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer in the kitchen in her grandparents' house. She opened the scissor blades and awkwardly tried cutting the plastic. It didn't seem to be working, so Scarlett applied more force and before she had realized what happened, bright red liquid began gushing out from the palm of her hand. It took her a moment to find her voice so that she could scream and when she did, her parents instantly came running. She was taken to the hospital where she had five sutures put in her hand. She had cried the entire time and deemed it the worst Christmas ever. The second time she had gotten stitches was at the age of fourteen. She was in the library after school had ended for the day and was doing her homework while waiting for her mother to pick her up. The point of her pencil snapped and she groaned out loud, earning a "shush" from the elderly librarian. Scarlett reached to get another pencil from her backpack on the floor, but when she came back up, her head hit the corner of the table and she let out a string of rather colorful words, feeling pain pulsating at her hairline. The librarian turned to fuss her again, but instead she gasped, her eyes as big as saucers. Scarlett was about to ask what was the matter until she felt something warm slide down her forehead. She put her finger to her head and when she drew it back, blood was shown. The elderly lady immediately rushed her into the restroom, grabbed a fistful of paper towels out of the dispenser, and told her to keep them on her head while she ran to call an ambulance. Three sutures were put into her head near her hairline that evening. And the doctor had used a local anesthetic in both instances to numb the pain. Scarlett had a feeling that she wasn't going to be as lucky this time, seeing as this wasn't the most sanitary place around and Nikolai probably wasn't a trained physician.

"So, Vladimir really had you under our noses these past few days, huh? Kept you all to himself?"

Scarlett's head shot up, her brows coming together. He was going to make her cry if he kept talking about that horrible man. She bit her lip as she felt moisture gathering in her eyes and a lump forming in her throat. She didn't want to answer him for fear that she would have another total meltdown, so she just stared at his soiled boots on the floor. They were caked with grass and mud.

"It's alright. I understand. There was nothing you could've done. When he had his mind on something, he stuck with it. But I have to say, it's been a while since he screwed up this bad. And Dmitri…" he scoffed, "…it was even dirtier of him to keep a secret like that, especially from me. We're close acquaintances, you see. We've been on this island since the year 1994…"

Scarlett's eyes doubled in size. _Nineteen years?! They've been stuck on this island for almost two decades?! No wonder they act like animals!_

"…so it's not to say what Vladimir did was surprising. He was always a bit of a troublemaker. And we all need an outlet from time to time." He leaned in close to her again. She could smell his fermented breath when he exhaled. "You must have been something pretty special, otherwise—"

"There you are! I've got your shit." Dmitri entered the room with an annoyed expression, carrying a small crate with medical supplies. Nikolai pulled back from her.

"It's about time. We were having ourselves a little cocktail hour waiting for you to show up, all filled with drinking and small talk," he greeted with sarcasm, stuffing his flask back into his trench coat.

"So sorry, your highness," Dmitri shot back and shoved the box into his chest. "I didn't know where you took her." He turned on his heel to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Dmitri halted and pivoted. "Because of this _thing_ ," he pointed at Scarlett, "I have to be at Mathias' beck and call from now on until he feels that I can be on my own. I delivered the shit, so now I'm reporting back to him."

"Don't get pissed at me for what you did," Nikolai scolded. "You're lucky to still be alive."

"What _I_ did?!" he smacked his hand against his own chest. "What about what _she_ did?!"

"What are you talk—"

"You're not considering the one crucial detail: she's the one that killed Vladimir!

"Well, could you blame her?!" That took Scarlett aback. Was Nikolai defending her?

"Yes, I could! I am! She had Vladimir wrapped around her little finger the entire time and then shot him the first chance she got! And then she had the fucking balls to throw me under the bus too! She's a manipulative bitch who will do anything, even turn us against each other, to stay alive! She doesn't deserve treatment. We should just tie her up and leave her to suffer until the ritual where she'll be—"

"You shut your mouth right now! We're doing as Mathias says because that's how _we_ stay alive! You got that?! You're going to stay right here while I fix her in case she decides to try anything and then you can be on your merry way. You won't have to deal with her anymore after this. Can you handle that?"

Dmitri scowled at his older brother's words while he observed the girl's pathetic form. She was covered in dirt, scratches, and blood. The skin that was left unsoiled was a pale white as if she were ill. The look in her eyes was like that of terrified prey. But he knew it was a mask. She was a snake, a succubus just waiting for the next available opportunity to take advantage of them all and screw them over, literally and figuratively, to save her own skin. She would pay, though. Come sunset, she would be burnt to a charred crisp and become nothing but a pile of ash after the ritual was completed.

"Yeah. I can…" he mumbled and roughly rammed his shoulder against the doorframe to lean on it. His fiery eyes remained fixated on the girl, staring her down like a prison warden. "One wrong move, though…" he warned her, shaking his head threateningly.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. Why did he keep making her out to be this femme fatale? "Screw you…" she breathed, not having the patience to ignore his threats any longer.

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Dmitri fired back.

She bared her teeth and raised her fist at him, displaying only her middle finger. "Fuck off!"

He stormed to her and smacked her on her tender cheekbone, earning a howl from her.

"Little cunt!" he snapped and watched her trembling hand go to her cheek.

Nikolai stood up and shoved Dmitri back with his chest. "What the fuck's wrong with you?! She's not hurting anyone."

"Insubordination," Dmitri seethed.

Nikolai pointed a finger into his chest. "That's the last time you do that. She has to be brought to Mathias in one piece. Now, back off and chill out," Nikolai gestured to a corner in the room. Dmitri submitted and crossed his arms with a glower on his face. He reminded Scarlett of a toddler in "time out". Nikolai sat back down on the stool and grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He tilted the rim of it onto a piece of clean gauze. "Your arm," he gestured, reaching for her injured limb. Scarlett hesitantly offered it to him.

As soon as the first fiber of the cloth touched her exposed flesh, Scarlett let out a hiss that overtook the entire room. She attempted to pull her arm back from the Russian's grasp, but he wouldn't yield. Nikolai kept dragging the damp cloth over her laceration nonstop, clearing away the dirt and dried blood, all the while paying no attention to her whimpers.

After he finished, the blazing pain somewhat receded. She opened her eyes to see him discarding the now red and brown cloth into the container on the ground beside him before fumbling for a needle and thread. Scarlett watched him as he drew a long length of black string from a spool and tore it with his teeth. She grimaced. That was not sanitary. Next, he opened a small, clear plastic case and Scarlett let out a wince: needles. She knew her fear of them was irrational, but the idea of something small, skinny, and sharp piercing her flesh and shoved forcefully into her body to travel through her skin was enough to make her dizzy.

"Ummm…" she panted, "do we have to do this? Can't it just heal on its own?"

"It would take longer that way."

Dammit. She was just going to have to be honest with him.

"Look," she breathed, "I get squeamish around needles. Whenever I have to get blood drawn at the doctor's office, I nearly pass out every time. Can't we just leave it be? I won't touch it," she promised.

"No. Father Mathias' orders," Nikolai answered, selecting a curved surgical needle that appeared as if it had been used one too many times. Scarlett was on the verge of tears as she watched Nikolai pull out a lighter and spark a flame to sterilize the needle. It turned a dark iridescent color after becoming exposed to the heat.

"Do you at least have something to numb the pain?" she desperately wondered as he was attempting to get the thread through the needle's eye.

"You think Vladimir had special treatment when you shot him in the face?!" Dmitri bellowed from the corner.

"I didn't kill him! I already told you that!" she yelled back.

"Liar!"

"Will you two fucking shut up already?!" Nikolai barked, still holding the unthreaded needle in his hand. "This is already hard enough to do without all of your hollering."

Dmitri huffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance at his brother's degenerating eyesight. This was taking too long.

"You're blind. Give me that!" he snatched the needle and thread from Nikolai's grasp and held the materials close to his face. Aging at around forty, he too had to let his eyes adjust to the objects' close proximity. His sight wasn't what it used to be, but it surpassed Nikolai's. Seeing the end of the thread was frayed, he stuck it in his mouth to wet it and got the strands to unite once again. Successful on the fourth try, he roughly offered the threaded needle back. "Here! Don't screw it up."

Nikolai frowned at Dmitri's snippy comment, but decided not to push it. He stretched out the full length of thread to avoid creating any knots and the girl whimpered, almost being on the verge of hyperventilating. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her close to him, making her lean forward. Without any warning whatsoever, Nikolai inserted the needle into her skin and the girl seized up immediately, closing her eyes and flexing the muscles in her arm tensely.

"You need to relax," he advised, even though he knew his words fell on deaf ears. He pushed the small piece of metal through her and she felt it slide through her flesh until it emerged on the other side of the wound. He then pulled the thread through its entire length and she shuddered when he pulled it tightly to secure the suture. He brought his face so close to her arm that his nose was almost touching her as he made a simple knot before cutting the string.

Scarlett opened one eye to look at him. "How many…more?"

"Three," Nikolai tied another knot at the end of the thread still attached to the needle. She let out a pitiful whine.

"Oh hush, girl. I'm sure you've been through worse. What caused this anyway? An arrow?"

She nodded her head, keeping her eyes shut.

"And you pulled it out, didn't you?" He received another nod. "It wouldn't be so bad if you had left it in," he told her monotonously, zoning in on her arm once more to make a second suture. The girl seethed at the pain once more and jerked her arm out of reflex.

"Hold still," he firmly demanded, grasping her elbow tighter to make it remain stationary. He quickly guided the needle through and secured the stitch. "When did it happen?"

"…yesterday…" she mumbled.

"What time of day?"

"Night…"

"Who did it?" Nikolai could feel his heartbeat quicken. He half expected her to say Vladimir. It would have been unusual for the man to have gotten his hands on a bow, but Vladimir was more than capable of shooting the old-fashioned way. Nikolai briefly glanced back at Dmitri, whom had the look of a predatory hawk, waiting for the girl's answer. He knew what was running through his brother's mind: the only reason Vladimir would have shot her would have been if his life was in danger. And if he was the one to have shot her that would nearly confirm that she struck back and took his life. The girl inhaled, snapping Nikolai's gaze back to her arm.

"Some guy…I don't know."

Nikolai was about to ask another question, but Dmitri hurriedly interrupted him and attempted to speak in a voice as calm as his. "Was this before or after you killed Vladimir?"

The girl exhaled, "After…"

One second later, she snapped her eyes open upon processing the sentence that she just heard. "Wait! I didn't shoot him! This happened after he got shot!"

"So, you admit it! You shot him! You were there!" he yelled at her. She got to her feet abruptly, knocking Nikolai back from his work. The needle remained in her arm and the thread still had a lot of slack in it.

"I didn't fucking do it! How many times do I have to tell you, you STUPID FUCK?!"

Dmitri let out a raging yell before charging at her. Scarlett fell back onto the cot and cowered as far back into the wall as possible, preparing herself for another beating. But it never came. She slowly opened her eyes to see Nikolai holding him back.

"Get off me! I'll kill her!" Dmitri yelled, eager to pound her face in. Scarlett winced at that. She was afraid of Dmitri. She admitted it. The fire in his eyes was murderous. If Nikolai wasn't there to keep him back, there was no doubt that he would certainly beat her to death.

"Get a hold of yourself! You'll only make matters worse!" Nikolai shouted, still able to hold his ground despite a quick back-handed punch to the chin.

"Why…are you…defending…her?!" Dmitri pushed back. Scarlett noted that much like when Dmitri and Vladimir had fought, the two men here were equally matched.

"Because your temper's going to get us killed!"

That only seemed to fuel Dmitri's rage. "Fuck you!" he pushed back from Nikolai. "He's dead because of her and you act like you don't even care!"

Nikolai paused for a long moment, a firm scowl etched on his face. Dmitri stared back at him with the same look. Scarlett had thought she was afraid before, but her stomach was definitely clenched now. The silence now felt even more deadly than the yelling.

"You think I don't care?" Nikolai's voice was low and deep. "I spent most of my life with that man. I've known him since his youth; what he was like, what he was capable of, his secrets. Many a time, I've taken the heat for him whenever he decided to behave like a feral animal. But he always had my back and I had his. So don't tell me that 'I don't care' that he's gone," Nikolai repeatedly jabbed his finger into Dmitri's chest for each point he made. "He shouldn't have done what he did and that's his own fault. But now, all we can do is keep our heads down and do what Mathias says, lest we get ourselves killed."

Dmitri turned away, obviously sulking at Nikolai's answer. When he didn't offer a response, it made Nikolai try a different approach.

"Look…I'm on your side, brother," he assured in a milder tone, placing a hand on Dmitri's shoulder accommodatingly. The way he said the words was almost—dare she say—gentle. Scarlett could sense a strong bond of comradery between them, like one man was trying to pacify the other in a distressing situation. Nikolai was acting just like a sibling and it was…fascinating. It surprised Scarlett that such an intimate moment could be had amongst brutes like themselves. It made them seem more human, more vulnerable, like they had hearts underneath their rough exteriors. "I know the situation is completely fucked up, but we've got to keep a level head. We have to be logical. You understand this, right?"

Dmitri bit the inside of his cheek in conflict. Nikolai could still see that disgruntled look on his face and huffed.

"What, Dmitri?! What's the problem?"

Dmitri crossed his arms over his chest. "Make her say it; then maybe I'll calm down."

Before Scarlett could even process his words, let alone come up with a response, a powerful force struck her as Nikolai suddenly pivoted and back-handed her across the face. Her jaw dropped straightaway, both from pain and shock. In fact, she was so in shock that no noise came out of her mouth in response to the blow. She had thought Nikolai was on her side. But she supposed this only proved that none of these men could be trusted. Ever. They only looked out for each other and, if they didn't care enough to do that, only for themselves; just like animals in the wild.

"Say you killed Vladimir," Nikolai ordered, towering over her with his intimidating height.

Scarlett couldn't even form words as her hand hovered over the side of her face.

"C'mon!" he shoved her, making her nearly fall off the cot.

Scarlett hung her head and clenched her teeth with all of her might, trying to take her mind off of the pulsating agony.

"Talk! It'll give him peace of mind!" he pointed at Dmitri.

Scarlett reluctantly began shaking her head back and forth, knowing it would only get worse. Why was she so damn hell-bent on the truth? If she said she was guilty, maybe they would stop beating her around and leave her the hell alone for once. But something about it just didn't sit well with her: taking the blame would confirm the men's suspicions of her being a manipulative killer. She had killed people, yes, but they were usually split second decisions. She had baited Vladimir for so long that it would look like she had slain him if she confessed. And that wasn't who she was. Vladimir's death was not going to be another tally mark on her kill count chart.

"I…didn't," she whispered in a shaky tone, not daring to look into anyone's eyes. Her head felt too heavy for her to lift anyway.

"You don't want to play this…" Nikolai warned before wrenching her forward so that her backside was against his chest and her neck was ensnared by the crook of his arm. He tightened his grip around her neck. "Confess!"

"No!" Scarlett shouted. She attempted to jerk away from his grasp, but he applied more force with his large, muscular arm. A high-pitched, ringing sound began to overtake her hearing and a woozy sensation flowed through her, turning her limbs to gelatin.

"C'mon, girl! Say the words! Or I'll rip your damn head off your body!"

The threat of death combined with the incapacitating feelings was enough to make her frightened for her life. She was going to die. And if that was about to happen, she might as well tell them what really took place last night.

"It wasn't me!" she choked, "It was…another girl."

"Who?!" Nikolai shook her. Scarlett gripped at the arm that trapped her, attempting to give herself some slack to take in air. Her vision was fading fast, though, and her blood pressure was dropping at an alarming rate. It felt like her heart was pumping wave after wave of ice water in her bloodstream. She only had a few seconds to say what she wanted before it was too late. Her words came out slurred, as if she were intoxicated.

"Don't know…Had…blue shirt…brown pants…dark hair…bow…English….accennnt…" The last word dragged out before everything went dark and her muscles relaxed, making her entire body go limp. She began to slide down towards the floor, but Nikolai held her up.

He directed his gaze at Dmitri. "Satisfied?"

Dmitri uncrossed his arms and stared at the comatose girl silently. With an exhale, he shook his head and fled the room in frustration. Nikolai watched him leave, but didn't follow. He assumed that Dmitri had accepted her claim, though was none too pleased to hear it. But perhaps she really hadn't done anything. Maybe she was just a victim of all of this.

Nikolai laid the girl back down on the cot and her head flopped to the side. It was then he noticed how sweaty she was from the drops of moisture she had left behind on the sleeve of his leather trench coat. Nikolai wrapped his hand around her delicate neck and felt for a pulse with his thumb. It was never his intention to kill her. No, that would have been stupid with Mathias already on edge. He only roughed her up a bit to appease Dmitri and to get him to leave the room. Her neck was slick with perspiration, but he eventually felt a thumping, though it was at a slow rate. She had better wake soon. It wouldn't look good for him if an unconscious girl was strapped to the pyre for the ritual. Mathias would be all over him in an instant. But he anticipated that she would at least be out long enough for him to finish stitching her up without rebellion. He located the needle in her arm and continued where he left off, finally grateful for the silence.

* * *

 **A/N: So, this used to be two chapters, but I decided to combine them into one. Just thought it made more sense. Thanks to DannyPhantom619 and ARCCaptainFordo for commenting on the last chapter! I greatly appreciate it! And thank you, reader, for reading! 3**


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